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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933451">Drop Dead, Dogbreath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachcandykiddo/pseuds/peachcandykiddo'>peachcandykiddo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Angst, Arson, Blood and Violence, Codenames, Disturbing Themes, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Character Death, Hitman Kyoutani, I do not condone anything that occurs in this fic, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mafia AU, Organized Crime, People Will Die, Running Away, Special Agent Yahaba, Strangers to Lovers, depictions of violence, strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:35:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933451</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachcandykiddo/pseuds/peachcandykiddo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee shop. A bar in the wrong corner of town and a “private security” firm.<br/>Yahaba Shigeru drinks Orange Blossom Tea, with five ice cubes. Kentarou, sixteen ounces of black coffee. Hot as all hell. Despite all the risks and red flags, Kentarou falls for the tall silver-haired stranger. Somebody employed in private security doesn’t mesh well with someone in the business of murder-for-hire. He tries to make it work regardless. Tries.</p><p>CONTENT WARNING: For those sensitive to certain subjects, this fic will cover dark topics. If you are sensitive to violence in any form, I ask that you please proceed with caution.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kyoutani Kentarou &amp; Aobajousai Volleyball Club, Kyoutani Kentarou &amp; Yahaba Shigeru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was this guy at the coffee shop Kentarou frequented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was snobbish, constantly overdressed, always flirting with the baristas. Male or female, he didn’t seem to care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every morning before his shift at the comic shop he worked at, Kentarou would stop by for a single overpriced black coffee. It was all that got him going in the morning. </span>
</p><p><span>And every morning, the guy was there. Kentarou even almost had his order memorized he heard it so often. Orange Blossom Tea, with exactly five ice cubes. And his name, Yahaba Shigeru.</span> </p><p>
  <span>He was tall, build slim, and hair almost… graying. But everything else about him looked young, not a single wrinkle to be found on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, Kentarou wasn’t sure Yahaba ever noticed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t consider himself someone who stood out much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until Kentarou walked into the coffee shop and Yahaba handed him a warm cup, "It’s on me this morning, black coffee right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How do I know you didn’t poison it or something?” Kentarou raised an eyebrow, taking the coffee from the man. He didn’t really care much if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>poisoned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, that’d be a big mistake because there are approximately,” Yahaba paused for a moment counting the people in the coffee shop under his breath, "Seven witnesses, three of which who know my full name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So we’ve established that you’re a stupid criminal,” Kentarou sipped his coffee, bitter as always. Just as he liked it, "What’s with the coffee?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba simply shrugged, "Random act of kindness. My name’s Yahaba Shigeru. Friends call me Shige.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba reached his hand out, presumably for Kentarou to shake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yea, I know,” Kentarou shook the outstretched hand, "I see you here every day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, formalities and all Kyoutani-san,”  Yahaba shrugged with a soft chuckle, "You wanna sit and chat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure,” Kentarou shrugged. He had time before he had to open the shop anyways, "Why though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because you’re cute,” Yahaba shrugged, "And I’m feeling ballsy today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Such a shocker that Yahaba had no qualms when it came to flirting with Kentarou. He did it shamelessly with anyone and everyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like, a date?” Kentarou raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. A gesture often referred to as dog-like by coworkers and peers alike, "Bold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, like I said,” Yahaba grinned, "Feeling ballsy today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou honestly had nothing against going out with Yahaba. He was a pretty face. But the guy’s presentation overall seemed… shallow. Like there was something underneath the cheery smiles and flirtatious nature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, sit with me?” Yahaba suggested once more, gesturing to a table by the window of the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yea, alright,” Kentarou shrugged and followed Yahaba to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He figured he should get out more anyways, make more friends. He lived a pretty lonely life after all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over coffee that day, Kentarou learned a lot about Yahaba. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a dog and lived with a couple of roommates from college. He always drank orange blossom tea because it helped calm his muscles twitching, and made it easier for him to sleep. His phone number ended with 16, Kentarou’s favorite number, and he worked in private security.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That last part was… inconvenient for Kentarou. When it came to his line of work, somebody who worked in any form of law enforcement was an inconvenience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The comic shop was just a day job, something to keep money coming in and keep up appearances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every few days, a key to a room above </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Grand King’s court</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be delivered to his doorstep, along with a time and date. Upon the arrival of that date, Kentarou would put on his nice blazer and pants, throw on a mask and make his way to the club.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Grand King’s court was made known by its poker tournaments and popularized for its anonymity. Entrance to the club was dictated by one thing only — full-face coverings were required.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One could go to the bar on the corner and be a completely different person, or even nobody at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In relation to that, the club was popular amongst criminals. Not the lowlife, petty crime type of individual. Organized crime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those nights that Kentarou was brought in, he would play a few rounds of poker, rack up a couple of hundred dollars at least until he rose up to the upper echelon’s table. There sat the owners of the court, decorated in elaborate masks and expensive watches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man he was there for was the fox.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owner of the club, The Grand King himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the time listed on the handwritten note came around, Kentarou would excuse himself as would The Grand King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them would climb the stairs to the private rooms above the bar, and The Grand King would escort Kentarou into the room he was given a key to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mad-dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Grand King sat down at the desk, removing his mask from his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Underneath the painted gaze of the fox was a set of brown eyes, just as piercing as those of the disguise. Those eyes stared straight through Kentarou, as long as he had known the King they unnerved him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your highness. What do you have for me today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou discarded his mask as well, a form of courtesy. When one showed his face, the other did too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"His name is Ryuuzouji Suetoshi. He’s crossed us one too many times,” the King retrieved a briefcase from the floor and unlatched the clasps, opening the case, "He wears a pretty generic mask, photos are in the file folder. And a watch with the face on the inside of his left hand. Get him up here and take care of it. Call me when you’re done, our jesters will clean up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou nodded firmly, and the King replaced his mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Before close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, The Grand King disappeared through the door once more, shutting it behind him and leaving Kentarou on his own in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For years, Kentarou had done this sort of work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It began with a bar fight, at The Grand King’s court itself. He was quite the delinquent as a kid — angry and getting into fights. Pissed at the world and taking it out on anyone he could. Just as the other guy was falling to the ground, defeated, Kentarou found himself pulled away by a man in a wolf mask. The King’s knight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was seated at The Grand King’s poker table, bloody and beaten, and under the discretion of the men sitting there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Grand King, his Knight, amongst other masked individuals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was when he was given a proposition, one followed by more money than Kentarou could have ever dreamed of. That proposition came with a test, one he passed with relative ease. As he found, locking away his conscience was easier than it seemed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later he would find that he was doing the dirty work for the Seijoh crime family, an infamous group in the Sendai area. That certainly explained the hefty rewards. The more jobs he did, the more were offered, and the more Kentarou was welcomed into the family’s inner circle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, the jobs were messy, petty criminals who had crossed The Grand King once or twice. Cleanup and hunting were left to Kentarou himself, and rewards were small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, as the King’s trust in Kentarou grew, the targets became more important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rich men who cheated the King out of money, betting with counterfeit bills, stealing from the bar, disrespected the members of The Grand King’s table. Those were hunted by the King himself, brought in for Kentarou to take care of, weapons provided for him. Cleanup offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn’t have to worry about it, and the next day that briefcase would show up on Kentarou’s doorstep, filled with stacks of bills. Enough to cover his coffee expenses, replace the clothes ruined the night before, and anything else he could think of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the most part, he saved it, locked it in a safe in the basement. He had everything he could want after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, if he could stop he would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was in too deep. Once ingrained in this business, the only way one got out was death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Kentarou took a seat at the desk, removing the file folder from the briefcase and flipping through it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuuzouji was a large man, taller than Kentarou by a few inches and at least twice as bulked up. Brute force wouldn’t work for this one, he would need to be cunning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Grand King seemed to have taken this into account because alongside the file folder was a roll of knives. Satisfied that he could pick Ryuuzouji out in a crowd, Kentarou pulled the roll of knives from the case, selecting one that he felt confident would do the job for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He figured he’d go for the jugular, get it done nice and quick. One jab and the man would be down for the count.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hard part was going to be luring him up to Kentarou’s room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he thought it over Kentarou sheathed the knife, sliding it into his boxers to rest against his hip for easy access. Maybe if he were lucky, he could lure the guy himself, but that was a rare case. Not many were willing to just disclose what was considered a taboo attraction just like that, to some random stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d figure it out, he always did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou donned his mask once more and made his way back down into the chaos of the bar. Even in the dim lighting, he managed to spot Ryuuzouji sitting at the bar, broad shoulders hunched as he stared into his drink. Across the room at his table, The Grand King nodded at Kentarou, and he nodded back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was go time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ryuuzouji-san,” Kentarou slid into a seat next to Ryuuzouji, leaning back against the counter and staring out into the dining area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> seem happy. Kentarou was more enjoyable to be around, and he killed people for a living.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have a friend, she’s upstairs,” he used this trick often. Promises of somebody in a room who wanted the men he preyed on, "She wants me to bring you up to her Ryuuzouji-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is she pretty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was proving to be easier than Kentarou thought. The guy was obviously more than a few drinks in and not thinking too clearly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gorgeous,” Kentarou lied through his teeth, and soon enough he was practically leading Ryuuzouji by the tie up to the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where is she?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ryuuzouji slurred as Kentarou escorted him into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She’ll be here Ryuuzouji-san,” Kentarou hummed, removing his blazer and hanging it up in the closet. He didn’t want to get blood on it, he quite liked that one, "Just sit down and relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this some sort of gay shit?” Ryuuzouji grumbled, lurching over to Kentarou, "You think you can trick me into thinking you’re a girl? I might be drunk but I’m not into that fag shit so god help me—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You better hope he does,” Kentarou didn’t want to play around with this guy. It only heightened the risk of things going wrong. All in one swift motion he pulled the knife from his pants and jabbed it into Ryuuzouji’s throat. Blood splattered onto Kentarou’s mask, and the man fell to the ground with a heavy thud, "Call me a fag again, see where it gets you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One last spurt of blood exploded from Ryuuzouji’s throat as he ripped the knife out, but it was too late. One last wheeze and he was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One phone call and three minutes later the court’s jesters were knocking at the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mad-dog, Mad-dog,” one of them sang. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How you feeling tonight?” the other finished, asking the coded question to confirm it was them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m feeling in need of a cleaning crew,” Kentarou grumbled, opening the door and removing his blood-covered mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Looking rough Mad-dog-chan,” the first court jester removed his mask and handed Kentarou a pile of folded-up clothes to change into.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The jesters were notorious trouble-makers, living to tease anyone and everyone. And it pissed Kentarou off. Just as ridiculous as their personalities were their code names — Pinky and Sleepy — lovingly named for their most prominent features. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh fuck off Pinky,” Kentarou grumbled, taking the clothes and handing his mask off to the second jester to clean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But they were damn good at their jobs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within minutes his face was cleaned of blood, mask spotless once more, and Kentarou was clothed in a fresh shirt and pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Catch you next time.” Kentarou pulled his blazer on and exited the room, leaving the jesters to their work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Catch ya next time Mad-dog,” Sleepy waved, and Kentarou simply slammed the door behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Returning to the downstairs Kentarou made his way back to The Grand King’s poker table, and slid into a seat between the King and his Man-in-Waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you give him the special treatment?” The Grand King hummed, sliding chips into the center of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The jesters are on cleanup now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wonderful,” the King chirped, "This is why you’re my man, Mad-dog-chan, your reward will be on your doorstep tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, Kentarou came home to a series of messages from Yahaba on his personal phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy texted a lot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>New Chat with Yahaba Shigeru</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [21:23]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>how’s it going Kyoutani-kun?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [21:45]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>man, no response ): that’s a long shift if ur still at work haha</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [23:14]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>by the way next time we go out ur buying</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [23:16]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>assuming u wanna go on a second date</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [23:17]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>do u wanna go on a second date??</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [23:59]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>did i get ghosted by another guy )):</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [00:07]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i have the worst lick lmao</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [00:07]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>luck** dammit stupid autocorrect</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kentarou couldn’t help but crack a smile at the string of text messages. The guy was practically talking to himself as Kentarou worked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [00:47]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not ghosted, I was just at work. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [00:48]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t u leave 4 work this morning? it’s almost 1 in the morning now</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wasn’t exactly sure what to tell Yahaba. If he was interested in pursuing something long-term (and he was — Kentarou was really lonely) it had to be something that would hold up. The only question was — what could he say that would hold up?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [00:50]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have a second job that I only work some nights, I run errands for some guy at this bar. Deliveries and pickups and such. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He supposed that was right enough. He just didn’t specify that those errands were… slightly murderous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [00:51] </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>man the work ethic u have haha i can barely handle my one job. which bar?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [00:53]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think it’s really in your part of town, but the King's Court. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [00:54] </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>oh yea i’ve heard of that place!! never been though, how is it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [00:55]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s alright I guess. Kinda mediocre when you work around it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [00:56]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>anyways, about that second date?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kentarou did want to go out with Yahaba again. It was nice talking to him, even if the guy was snobbish and a bit shallow. His work schedule was just… difficult to work around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [00:58]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yea, I’d like that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d figure out the scheduling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [00:59]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>how about u take me to that bar u work at? maybe u get an employee discount haha</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Kentarou wasn’t so sure about that. Yahaba’s line of work didn’t mesh well with the bar full of criminals and murderers. T</span><em><span>hough Kentarou was a murderer too. H</span></em><span>e wasn’t sure he wanted to explain everything. The fact that he doesn’t even know his boss's name or any of his coworkers. </span><span><br/></span> <em><span>Coworkers. T</span></em><span>hat was a funny way to put it, more like accomplices.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [01:02]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t think that place is really your thing. Wouldn’t wanna cover up that pretty face with a mask, would you? Anyways my boss doesn’t do that kind of stuff, discounts and all. Drinks aren’t that good either, I’ll take you out somewhere better.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The touch of flirting wasn’t quite Kentarou’s style, but Yahaba struck him as the type of guy who liked to be complimented. And if he was trying to steer Yahaba away from The Grand King's court he needed every bit of help he could get.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [01:03]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>awh kyou-chan r u ashamed of me :’) do u not want me to meet ur boss</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, he was a little bit. And he didn’t want Yahaba to meet The Grand King. But not for the reason Yahaba probably thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [01:04]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, it’s not like that. I just like to keep work and personal life separate. Also, it’s honestly not that great. We’ll get dinner and drinks somewhere else.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [01:05]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ooo u gonna surprise me? ;)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t Kentarou’s original plan, but he supposed it would work. A nice romantic surprise, going out to a mystery restaurant. He just had to find a good place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [01:07]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Be ready at 20:00 this Wednesday, if you give me your address I’ll come pick you up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wednesday was three days from now, gave Kentarou plenty of time to figure out where to take Yahaba. Maybe he’d ask some of his coworkers. At the comic shop — not The Grand King's court. Then again, there were a few men there who seemed somewhat trustworthy. More so than The Grand King at least, but that wasn’t saying much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was a knock at his door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou set his phone down on the coffee table and stood up from the couch he sat on, making his way to the front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened it, whoever knocked was long gone, but in the flowerpot was an envelope, the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mad-dog-chan</span>
  </em>
  <span> written in sprawling script.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another job, so soon. That was unlike the King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting back down on the couch, Kentarou tore open the envelope to retrieve the letter and key inside. The date listed inside was Tuesday — the night before he was supposed to go out with Yahaba.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really didn’t want to be out so late the night just before — but Kentarou supposed it was better than it being the night of and having to mysteriously reschedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he got one night of rest before then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou stuffed the letter and key back into the almost destroyed envelope, shoving the entire thing into the drawer of the coffee table, picking his phone back up to see Yahaba’s response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [01:08]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>it’s a date :)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [01:10]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>i’m gonna go to sleep, u better get some rest too. Night Kyoutani</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now that he thought about it, Kentarou </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> really tired. He always was the nights he worked. Normally he’d strip off his clothes and collapse into bed without even checking his phone, but he supposed things were going to be a bit different now if he was going out with Yahaba.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [01:11]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Night, Yahaba.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing up from the couch once more, Kentarou made his way to his bedroom, not even bothering to switch on the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Giving his blazer a quick sniff — Kentarou decided that it could be worn another night for work on Tuesday and hung it up in his closet, ditching the rest of his clothes in his laundry basket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crumpled up on the ground was his favorite sweatshirt, and Kentarou figured it was clean enough to wear just to bed. Wasn’t like anyone was gonna see him. He didn’t bother with pants, plugging his phone in on the nightstand and climbing into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never had a problem with it before, but tonight Kentarou’s bed felt incredibly empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was falling for Yahaba at an alarming rate, and honestly, Kentarou was getting scared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That Tuesday night, the King’s knight was on cleanup. The kill itself was clean — target smothered with a pillow — so all that was needed was a strong pair of arms to remove the body. Calling in the jesters would be overkill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of all the members of The Grand King’s inner circle — Kentarou probably spoke with the knight the least. He was strong and quiet — the brawn to The Grand King’s brains — and Kentarou had an immense amount of respect for the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was also the one who Kentarou trusted the most, the one who seemed least likely to use personal information against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, do you know of any good restaurants around here?” Kentarou questioned as the knight zipped the body bag closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That’s an odd question Mad-dog-san,” the knight hummed, putting his mask back on and hoisting the bag over his shoulder, "Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m taking a girl out,” Kentarou stated simply, revealing as little as possible and even lying about some. Just because Kentarou trusted the King’s knight more than the others didn’t mean that he trusted him completely, "I don’t get out much — so I don’t really know of anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm,” the knight simply grunted, heading for the door, "Take her to the Twisted Crow, they have good food and it’s run by some acquaintances. Tell them Iwaizumi sent you and they’ll treat you well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was the knight’s name.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Unspoken rule number one of employment at The Grand King’s court was </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t use your real name</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Nobody good was in this business — using real names brought upon unnecessary risk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you for trusting me, but you know I can’t return the favor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don’t worry about it Kyoutani-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was his name. How did the knight know his name? Why did the knight know his name?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I already know more about you than you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was chilled to the bone at his words — especially the way The Grand King’s lilting, almost teasing way of speaking seeped into the knight’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don’t worry about it — as long as you don’t cross the King it’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that the knight left the room, leaving Kentarou with the knowledge that the King and his knight knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>who Kentarou was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That idea haunted Kentarou up until the moment he was standing on Yahaba’s doorstep with a bouquet of roses in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had never been on an actual date with another man before. There was the occasional hookup, one night stands, that kind of thing. But never had he done anything like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hoped the flowers were alright, people in the movies always seemed to like flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door was answered by someone Kentarou didn’t recognize, he assumed one of Yahaba’s roommates. The man in the doorway was tall, long dark hair pulled into a loose bun, flyaways framing a freckled face. Moments later, a dog came scrambling around the corner, blowing past the man’s legs to sniff at Kentarou.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry about her,” he apologized with a grin, reaching for the dog’s collar, "You must be Shige’s date, come on in. Kyoutani, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou nodded as he followed the man into the house, reveling in the fact that Yahaba talked about him. Not wanting to remove his shoes, Kentarou lingered in the entryway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the living room were who he presumed were the rest of Yahaba’s roommates — all lounging around, taking up practically every form of seating available. When Yahaba said he had roommates, Kentarou thought of two, maybe three other guys. Not the six that sat before him in the room in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My name’s Yamaguchi,” the freckled man began introductions, "The dog’s name is Gertrude — don’t ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wanted to ask who and why had given the formidable german shepherd at his feet a name such as </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gertrude</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he felt awkward enough with all of these eyes on him so he refrained. He’d ask Yahaba later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"On the couch there is Futakuchi and Kenma,” Yamaguchi gestured to the pair sitting on the sofa, one with his nose buried in a book and the other immersed in a video game system. Futakuchi waved, but Kenma seemed dead to the world, "He’s lost in his game I guess, he just bought a new one, but I promise he’s nice. Akaashi is on the floor there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t even notice the dark-haired man sitting against the couch until Yamaguchi pointed him out. He waved, and Kentarou responded with a subtle nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ennoshita’s at the table,” another wave from the man sitting in the dining room on his laptop, "And the one in the armchair is Tsukishima, but he doesn’t actually live here. Says we’re too loud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wasn’t sure how the group of guys fell into the </span>
  <em>
    <span>too loud</span>
  </em>
  <span> category, they seemed to be calm for the most part. But he assumed even the quietest group felt loud when there were six of them in one house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>too loud,” tskuishima argued, met with a simple eye roll from Yamaguchi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shige!” Yamaguchi yelled down a hallway before turning back to Kentarou, "Go ahead and take your shoes off, take a seat. He takes a notoriously long time to get ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why does that not surprise me,” Kentarou snorted, sliding his shoes off his feet and stepping into the living room, only to quickly realize that every seat was taken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because its Shige, “ Yamaguchi laughed, crossing the living room to pull at Tsukishima’s arm, "Get up and let Kyoutani-san sit there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why do I have to move?” Tsukishima groaned, letting Yamaguchi pull him into a standing position anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because he’s the guest,” Yamaguchi argued, "You can sit with Ennoshita while you want for Kyoutani-san to leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsukishima trudged over to the dining table with Yamaguchi berating him the whole time, arguing that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re twenty-four quit acting like you’re twelve again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>it felt like as soon as Kentarou sat down and that interaction was complete that a voice came from the hallway, "What do you want? I'm trying to get ready!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>moments later Yahaba appeared from the doorway, hastily tying his tie, and… shoving his armpit into Yamaguchi’s face, "How do I smell?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lovely,” Yamaguchi laughed, shoving Yahaba off of him, "And what I wanted was to tell you Kyoutani-san is here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yahaba deadpanned, only just now noticing Kentarou, earning a bout of laughter from the occupants of the living room. Even kenma tore his gaze away from his game, "Dashi why didn’t you tell me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did tell you!” Yamaguchi chuckled, defending himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou took the moments this interaction took to stand up and admire Yahaba.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>if he was overdressed normally — Kentarou didn’t even know what to consider this.. Yahaba’s hair was slicked back, just a few strands out of place. Though, knowing Yahaba they were like that on purpose. He wore a fitted red tuxedo jacket that accentuated the curves of his torso </span>
  <em>
    <span>just right </span>
  </em>
  <span>with a pair of black pants, white shirt underneath stretched over toned muscles. His tie was crooked, presumably due to the speed at which he tied it. But overall he looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>stunning</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I got these for you,” Kentarou handed Yahaba the bouquet of roses, squirming under the pressure that was six pairs of eyes on him and Yahaba, "I hope you like them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They’re wonderful Kyoutani,” Yahaba smiled and took the roses in his hands, seeming to have forgotten all about the events of the previous few minutes, "I’ll put them in some water and then we’ll get going okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no, i’ve got them,” Yamaguchi reached over to pull the bouquet from Yahaba’s hands, "You two have a nice dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks Dashi,” Yahaba grinned, escorting Kentarou to the entryway to put his shoes on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>the two were shooed out the door by a chorus of </span>
  <em>
    <span>bye Shige’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice to meet you Kyoutani’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> and if Kentarou heard correctly even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t come home until you get some</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>as soon as the door shut behind them, Kentarou turned to face Yahaba, "You know, I didn’t get it at first when Tsukishima said you guys were too loud, but I understand now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yea they’re a lot sometimes,” Yahaba laughed, and the two fell silent for a brief moment, "You look nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>next to Yahaba, Kentarou honestly didn’t feel like he looked that nice. He was dressed simply, his nice white pants with a black button up that didn’t quite fit right and his nice blazer. He wasn’t even wearing a tie, the top button of his shirt undone and a simple chain necklace around his neck. But the compliment was appreciated regardless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You do too,” Kentarou nodded, reaching out to adjust Yahaba’s tie, "Even though your tie is crooked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen, you caught me off guard,” Yahaba argued with a smile, "I shoved my armpit into my best friend’s face in front of you, cut me some slack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don’t know that was pretty charming,” Kentarou shrugged, making his way down the walkway to his car that was parked in the driveway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I just cancel this date out of sheer embarrassment?” Yahaba groaned as he slid into the passenger seat of Kentarou’s car, "Is this seat heated?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, yea it is,” Kentarou hummed, he kind of forgot about that sometimes if he were being completely honest. He was so used to it at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So where are we going?” Yahaba looked to Kentarou as they pulled out of the driveway, resting his elbow on the center console, bumping into Kentarou’s. Invading his personal space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You’ll see when we get there,” Kentarou refused to give it up, wanting to keep the surprise for as long as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ugh, you’re no fun,” Yahaba sighed, leaning back into his seat,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever you say,” Kentarou shrugged, not really paying much attention to the way Yahaba reacted. From what Kentarou had seen he was just — dramatic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>the rest of the way to the restaurant, Yahaba talked aimlessly, chatting about this and that as Kentarou listened. Until finally they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and they were greeted by a valet. That’s when Yahaba lost his shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh my god, Kyoutani, this place is way too nice, I can’t afford this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can,” Kentarou shrugged, handing off his keys to the valet, and offering his arm up to escort Yahaba from the vehicle, "And I'm treating you to dinner, so don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jesus Kyoutani what do you do for that guy at the bar? you can’t make this much working at the comic shop,” Yahaba marveled as the two entered the building, doors opened for them by the men and women at the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Its inheritance money,” Kentarou shrugged, "I don’t mind spending it to treat you. And myself, I'm eating too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God, I can’t let you pay for this all on your own,” Yahaba stressed as they approached the hostess stand, grip on Kentarou’s arm relaxing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes you can,” Kentarou shut him down quickly, not even giving him a chance to argue more as he turned to the hostess, a petite woman with blonde hair pulled back into a bouncy ponytail, "Iwaizumi-san sent us, told me to tell you he did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh!” she gasped, seeming caught off guard by this, "Okay, let me go get Daichi-san for you okay? is it fine if you have to wait?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That’s totally fine,” Yahaba cut in with a smile, turning sharply to Kentarou as soon as the hostess rushed away, "What in the hell is happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We’re getting dinner,” Kentarou replied simply, "Iwaizumi-san is a coworker of mine, he knows the people who run the place. He’s the one that recommended it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jesus, Kyoutani,” Yahaba mumbled, glancing in awe around the grand restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>the ceilings were high, tables large, and chandeliers larger than life. The second level overlooking the rest of the place was even more awe-inspiring. Truthfully, Kentarou was just as out of his element as Yahaba was. He may have been wealthy, but he didn’t indulge in it often. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello, my name is Sawamura Daichi,” Kentarou’s attention on the rest of the building was quickly drawn back to the hostess stand as a pair of men approached them, tailed by the flighty blonde, "I’m the owner of this establishment, and this is Sugawara koushi, my co-owner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It’s nice to meet you,” Kentarou extended a hand for Daichi to shake, "I’m Kyoutani, and this is Yahaba.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daichi nodded and shook Kentarou’s hand, handshake firm and decisive, "You said Iwaizumi-san sent you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou simply nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yachi-san will take you two to your table if you’d follow her, don’t be afraid to let us know if you need anything at all. Tonight we’re here to serve you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you,” Yahaba bowed his head towards the owners, who simply bowed in return. And then Yachi was escorting the pair towards the back corner of the restaurant, in a booth shrouded by sheer curtains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Here you go,” she smiled, pulling the curtain back and allowing Kentarou and Yahaba to slide into the seats of the booth, "Can I get you two started with some drinks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou looked towards Yahaba, waiting for a clue about what his answer may possibly be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can we have just a moment to look over the menu?” Yahaba looked towards Yachi, folding his hands neatly on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, of course,” Yachi nodded and grinned, setting the pair of menus down on the table, "One of my colleagues will be with you soon, have a good night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You too,” Yahaba smiled at her before the curtains fell shut once more, and then his cool broke once more, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kyoutani, you got us a private booth?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not on purpose,” Kyoutani shrugged, beginning to browse the menu he held in his hands. Sadly, any alcohol was off limits since he was driving. Some of the stuff there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really fancy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, "Iwaizumi-san just told me they’d treat us well— not that we’d be royalty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I'm kind of loving it,” Yahaba laughed, picking up his own menu, "You’re sure money isn’t an issue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m sure,” Kentarou nodded. He made enough last night to cover the entire meal plus some for sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Absolutely?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes Yahaba, I'm absolutely sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru was a very handsy drunk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>and Kentarou was very thankful for the curtains that separated their booth from the rest of the patrons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>over the course of the meal the two found themselves gravitating towards the corner of the booth, gradually moving over until they were basically shoulder to shoulder. By then Yahaba was about halfway through a (very expensive) bottle of red wine and definitely starting to feel the effects. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kyou-chan,” he sang, throwing his legs over Kentarou’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck, "You should come home with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yahaba, you basically live in a frat house,” Kentarou snorted, his body seizing up as Yahaba nuzzled his face into his neck, "If we’re spending the night together, it’s at my house. I don’t need six other dudes listening to us. Your roommates are nosy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Five,” Yahaba corrected, breath hot on Kentarou’s throat, "It’s only six if Dashi’s boyfriend stays over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok well, it’s still too many people,” Kentarou laughed as Yahaba’s hands traveled up the back of his neck into his hair, "If you want to you can come over to my place, it’s not like I don’t have the space.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, ‘Dashi </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell me not to come home until I got some,” Yahaba mused, lifting his face from Kentarou’s neck to press his forehead to the other man’s, "So you should get the check and we should get going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m sure Sugawara-san will be back in a moment,” Kentarou gently pushed Yahaba away by the shoulders, he still wasn’t too comfortable with all of this… public stuff. Even if they were in a private booth, it still put him on edge. At least he wasn’t as at ease as Yahaba was — he supposed that being drunk helped his nerves a lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You’re no fun,” Yahaba pouted, "I don’t wanna wait.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>with that he stood up, and before Kentarou could stop him Yahaba was pulling aside the curtains and waving across the restaurant to the table where their waiter stood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yahoo, Sugawara-san!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yahaba!” Kentarou hissed, reaching for his arm and pulling Yahaba back into the booth, the other man falling nearly into his lap, "Control yourself, you’re being obnoxious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aww, is kyou-chan getting embarrassed?” Yahaba looked up at Kentarou as he spoke in a sing-song voice, so close their noses were nearly touching, "Your face is all red.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m just not comfortable with all this public stuff,” Kentarou grumbled, averting his gaze and trying to will the redness in his cheeks back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba seemed to quickly sober up at Kentarou’s comment, “Kyoutani-san, are you ashamed of me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I just—” Kentarou stumbled over his words, unsure of what to say. Because it sure as hell did sound like he was ashamed of Yahaba, "You know how it is around here for guys like us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And what’s gonna happen in the middle of this restaurant?” Yahaba crossed his arms over his chest, definitely seeming much more in control of himself than he was moments ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yahaba, there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad people</span>
  </em>
  <span> out there,” Kentarou continued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but think to himself that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm one of those bad people.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just don’t want you or I to get hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Y’know, I think I should go home tonight,” Yahaba moved back to his side of the booth, sipping at what was left in his glass of wine, "It’s not classy to sleep with a guy on the first date anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later that night, when Kentarou handed a sleepy, slurring Yahaba off to Yamaguchi he got quite the lecture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What the hell did you say to him?” Yamaguchi whispered sternly at Kentarou as the two stood in the living room, after Yahaba had been tucked safely into bed, "He’s all… sad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He was just getting handsy,” Kentarou explained, trying to avoid Yamaguchi’s gaze. Yahaba’s best friend gave off the vibe that he could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>very terrifying</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he wanted to, and it was getting to that point, "And you know how it is for guys like us in a place like this, I didn’t want anything to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That’s fair enough I guess,” Yamaguchi sighed, the fire in his chest audibly cooling, "He is kind of a weepy drunk anyways. Just be careful next time, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yea,” Kentarou nodded, unsure of what else to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have a good night Kyoutani-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You too Yamaguchi-san, it was really nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mad-dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Kentarou returned home that night it was late, nearly midnight. On standing his doorstep was The Grand King’s Man-in-Waiting, and he didn’t seem happy. By himself, he wasn’t very intimidating. He had a round face, only accentuated by the buzzed style he wore his hair in. And he was short. Much shorter than Kentarou.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, he was practically the Kings right hand man aside from the knight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou thought the Man-in-Waiting was the only one who actually knew who he was, but, the knight’s declarations the other night spoiled that delusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello sir,” Kentarou bowed his head to the man on his porch, hoping to earn what little favor back he could, "What brings you here tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I came to bring your reward by hours ago, and you weren’t home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yea, I was out,” Kentarou explained quickly, trying his best to defend himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know the drill,” the Man-in-Waiting continued, “The Grand King doesn’t like when people deviate from the plan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn’t realize I had to notify him of all of my evening plans,” Kentarou scowled, because the King didn’t need to know that much about him really. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just on payment nights.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, send my sincerest apologies to The Grand King,” Kentarou bowed, resisting the urge to be rude. He needed all the sucking up he could get — the knight’s words from the previous night still sat deep in his chest. A</span>
  <em>
    <span>s long as you don’t cross the King it’ll be fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>"And he can keep the reward this time, for all the trouble you’ve gone through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very well,” the Man-in-Waiting stepped off the porch, making his way down the walkway, "Just don’t do it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’ll make sure to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ah, Kyoutani-san!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was almost through the doors of the coffee shop, ready to head to work to open up when he heard Yahaba’s voice from the back of the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was gonna text you,” Yahaba continued, crossing the small shop to Kentarou, "But I figured i’d talk to you in person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was mildly confused. He couldn’t really think of anything so serious that it would constitute speaking in person over text. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m sorry about last night,” honestly, Kentarou kind of forgot about the whole thing already, "Dashi explained and I was… unreasonable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>truthfully, Kentarou had forgotten about it. It wasn’t exactly a huge deal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yea, so I just wanted to say sorry in person,” Yahaba continued, "We’re good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou simply nodded, "We’re good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good,” Yahaba grinned, "Because there’s this dinner for my company next week — I wanted to ask if you’d be my plus one. I promise raging PDA drunk Shige won’t be there, he’s staying home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded… public. Kentarou didn’t know how he felt about public, especially public with all of Yahaba’s coworkers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost as if he anticipated this hesitation, Yahaba continued explaining, "Nobody will be any trouble, Dashi and Tsukishima have been public for years and nobody has given them any problems. Promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A good dinner did sound nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou mulled it over another moment, but it really wasn’t much of a decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yea, that sounds like it’ll be nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Great,” Yahaba smiled, "I’ll text you the details, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou simply nodded as he watched Yahaba start moving backwards to the door, trying to prolong the conversation as he left, "Sounds good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See ya Kyoutani.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bye Yahaba.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A corporate dinner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou couldn’t say he’d ever been to one, he kind of wondered what it was like. Hopefully Yahaba’s company wasn’t all stuck up and shit. That sounded like it would be painful. An evening full of formalities and watching every word he said — awful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kentarou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though, that’s what he did all day at work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of The Grand King’s voice behind him sent a panic through his chest, and it took all of his self control to not whip his head around to face the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your Highness,” he bowed his head to the King, swallowing hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell was The Grand King doing here?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let’s talk,” the King crooned, throwing an arm around Kentarou’s shoulder and strolling towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had never been this close to the King before — it was too close. He could smell his cologne, a deep lavender smell that penetrated his nostrils and filled his lungs. It was suffocating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this about last night?” Kentarou dared ask, trying to conceal the shaking in his voice. He didn’t want to go too far — God knows what would happen if he went too far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We’ll chat in your car,” the King’s voice remained light and airy, but Kentarou </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> there was more beneath it. That voice concealed dangerous things. He didn’t want the King in his space. There was nothing to hide, but he didn’t want him there. It was an invasion of privacy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou allowed him into the passenger seat regardless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have work today, correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou simply nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go ahead and drive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He followed the King’s orders — he had to get to work anyways. As the engine purred to life the Grand King started messing with dials on the dashboard, radio, temperature. Every time he touched something Kentarou flinched. He was particular about his car, and the King was screwing with everything. But he didn’t dare tell him not to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is this about?” Kentarou asked once more, pushing just a little harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was risky, but he needed to know why the King was in his car, talking to him. He had never approached Kentarou outside of The Grand King’s court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You’re wavering, Kyouken,” the King hummed, reclining his seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Listen, if this is about last night, I can explain—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don’t want you to explain,” the King’s lilting tone dropped, and it was like a switch flipped in his voice. His demeanor became cold, more like what Kentarou knew was underneath the cheery facade, "I just want you to not do it again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I promise it won’t happen again,” Kentarou nodded, thankful he didn’t have to meet the King’s gaze. This conversation was much easier without eye contact, "I’ll be waiting for you every night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good,” the King seemed satisfied, and Kentarou was almost to the comic shop, "Thank you for your loyalty, Kentarou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course Your Highness,” Kentarou’s mouth was dry as he spoke, and he was itching to pull into a parking space and </span>
  <em>
    <span>get away</span>
  </em>
  <span>, "You don’t have to worry — I'm always at your service.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As you should be,” Kentarou parked his car around the side of the comic shop, and the King stepped out, "Remember, you made a promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the King was gone, disappearing into a car with blacked-out windows, and Kentarou let his head fall against the steering wheel. He was shaking so badly he could barely hold his head up, it felt like all of his muscles were just giving in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King had that effect on people — Kentarou had seen it — just never experienced it like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shift started in three minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have time to wallow, to really think about what just occurred. So he took a deep, shaky breath, and stepped out of the car. He patted his pockets, making sure he had his phone, keys, and wallet, and made his way into the shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d worry about what just happened later — not now.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>By the time the dinner party came around, Kentarou hadn’t heard from the King. Not once. Not a singular letter slid through the mail slot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things were silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was starting to get concerned, but that wasn’t a worry for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a concern was the fact that he couldn’t find his stupid belt. He wanted to look nice, but he couldn’t do that if his pants wouldn’t stay up. He liked the pair he had on — they made him look good — but if he couldn’t find the belt he’d have to change and then that would throw off the whole ensemble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he didn’t have the hints of white peeking through the black lines of plaid on the pants, he was wearing way too much black between his suit jacket and undershirt. He needed that contrast. But if he didn’t find that stupid belt, the contrast would be between his skin and his shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finally, </span>
  </em>
  <span>there it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou pulled the belt from under the pile of clothes in the corner of his room, weaving it through his belt loops, and finally he could bend over without concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing a chain necklace from his nightstand (he wasn’t much for ties), Kentarou admired himself in the mirror on the back of his door, prodding at a cowlick in hopes that it would decide to lay flat. It wouldn’t, but Kentarou decided that had to be good enough. He didn’t want to be late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arriving at Yahaba’s place he was met with similar fanfare to the last time he was there, Tadashi admiring his suit jacket (it was new) and the rest making sure to help make fun of Yahaba’s preening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough they were out the door, the rest of the guys promising to meet them there, and not to have too much fun on the way. Yahaba was in charge of directions, and they managed to make it there with only a few wrong turns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they entered the banquet hall, it was Kentarou’s turn to be amazed. This was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>really nice space</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and really big. He supposed that was a given for a corporate dinner. A lot of people were going to be there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were ushers to guide them to their table, and Kentarou found himself seated with Yahaba on one side and Tadashi on the other. Tsukishima was with them, but the rest of Yahaba’s roommates were seated elsewhere. The other guests at their table were men and women that Yahaba seemed to know well, and Kentarou assumed he’d be getting to know as the night went on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, Mae-chan!” Yahaba greeted one of the women who sat down at her place, a tall woman draped elegantly in a blue silk dress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shige-chan!” she beamed, standing back up almost as soon as she took her place, moving to meet Yahaba at his place and press a quick kiss to either of his cheeks, "You look dashing, is that a new jacket?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is,” Yahaba preened, bathing in the attention. Kentarou didn’t know how much he liked the way this woman was acting around Yahaba — but it was fine. It wasn’t like he had a right to him anyways. They had only just started going out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You look quite beautiful yourself,” Yahaba complimented, gesturing to her dress. It was pretty, Kentarou had to admit. Deep blue fabric of the corset hugged her body perfectly, flowing out into a skirt of similar color that seemed to shimmer as she moved. Sheer sleeves covered her arms, and Kentarou was pretty sure there were constellations made of crystals embedded in the material.</span>
</p><p><span>"Oh, Shige, you flatter me,” she laughed before turning her attention to Kentarou, "Who’s this? get yourself a man finally?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Her tone was teasing, and Kentarou squirmed under her gaze.</span></p><p>
  <span>Something lingered underneath her peppy exterior, and Kentarou felt intruded upon. Almost like he felt when the King looked at him, like he was reading Kentarou’s brain like a book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was now that he remembered how </span>
  <em>
    <span>risky</span>
  </em>
  <span> this was. Yahaba worked in security, Kentarou worked in murder-for-hire. He could be caught in an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did, actually,” Yahaba grinned, taking Kentarou’s arm in his own, like he was showing him off, "This is my boyfriend Kyoutani, Kyoutani, this is mashima mae.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou extended a hand to mae, she had a firm handshake, "Nice to meet you mashima-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, you don’t have to bother with all those formalities, just call me mae,” she hummed, "It’s nice to meet you too Kyoutani.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou met other coworkers after that, Yahaba’s boss, and he eventually found that nobody at this dinner was out to get him. Looking for reasons to distrust him. It was a lot easier to relax and have a good time after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba had been right — nobody gave them problems. Kentarou was introduced as Yahaba’s partner without anybody so much as batting an eye. It felt good to be in an environment like that — one where he could be open and honest. Not so much proud, but not like he was hiding everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The evening was uneventful so far, until plates of food were cleared off of tables and the dance floor in the center of the room opened up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Kentarou definitely had not been expecting. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Corporate dinner</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>dance floor</span>
  </em>
  <span> were two things Kentarou didn’t really think of going together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mae-chan really pushed for the dancing a few years back,” Yahaba explained as he dragged Kentarou to the open space, "Pulled out some insane studies about how it brings people closer together. I don’t even know — but our bosses bought it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That’s great, but I still can’t dance,” Kentarou insisted, only half-resisting Yahaba pulling him to the dance floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes you can,” Tadashi added, he was fighting a similar battle with Tsukishima but he seemed to be available enough to butt into Yahaba’s struggle, "It’s just dancing, not that hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, what Dashi said,” Yahaba continued, "Please kyou-chan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled out the stupid puppy dog eyes, and Kentarou couldn’t possibly resist those.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had never been very good at relaxing. He was always far too wary of his surroundings, of what could possibly go wrong, the nearest exit, et cetera. Any danger that could arise, he’d be prepared to combat it with ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though he was never good at relaxing, he had never been more carefree than in this moment. In the very situation he should have been most careful — surrounded by the very type of people that was likely hunting him — he could breathe easy, and dance with Yahaba. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba did this to him. An aphrodisiac of sorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was dangerous. Being with Yahaba was dangerous. Feeling like this for him was dangerous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Kentarou didn’t worry about that now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few songs, he didn’t worry. He let himself go, allowed himself to just have </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It had been a long time since Kentarou had fun. Probably since he was in high school. He played volleyball back then. His technique was lacking and he certainly wasn’t much of a team player, but Kentarou enjoyed it. However, there was no merit in the sport, and so he found himself dropping the sport in pursuit of a more fulfilling career.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposed that didn’t work out so well, he dropped out of veterinary school in favor of murder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was more complicated than that, really, but when it boiled down to it that’s exactly what Kentarou did. So much for a fulfilling career.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kyouken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou froze. </span>
  <em>
    <span>the King was the only person who called him that. Was the King here? Why the hell would the King be here? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sure, he was a creepy stalker, but he had no reason to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quit thinking, relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Initial panic fading, Kentarou realized that it was still Yahaba in front of him. the King wasn’t there, Yahaba just happened to use the same nickname. It was a coincidence, surely. The name just mashed the first syllable of his first and last name together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, I’m no good at dancing,” Kentarou forced a chuckle, “I can’t just stop thinking or I’ll step on your toes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wear steel-toe shoes,” Yahaba answered all too casually, “Don’t worry about stepping on my toes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was expecting his flimsy excuse to hold up much better than it did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou should have enjoyed those few worry-free songs more. As much as he tried, he just couldn’t relax again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Raging PDA Drunk Shige wasn’t at the dinner party, just as promised. Where he was, was at Kentarou’s house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two returned after the dinner party, agreeing that they’d rather there than at Yahaba’s frat house. No matter how much he argued that it wasn’t a frat house, that’s what it was. There was no convincing Kentarou otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a cabinet of wine in his dining room. The alcohol wasn’t frequently depleted, Kentarou wasn’t much of a drinker, so he had plenty to choose from. Yahaba opted for a white wine that had been sitting in Kentarou’s cabinet for longer than he could remember, and he poured the two a glass. Then another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pair sat at the island in Kentarou’s kitchen for what felt like hours, talking and drinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was about halfway through his second drink that Yahaba’s cheeks gained a pinkish tinge, and the bottom of his third that he stood up to drape himself over Kentarou’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kyou-chan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba’s breath was warm against Kentarou’s ear. It sent a more than welcome shiver down his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should take this into your room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had no objections. He just had to hope that Yahaba didn’t mind the mess. Kentarou wasn’t the cleanest guy, his room tended to be cluttered. Nothing awful, just some shirts on the ground and maybe a water cup on the nightstand. Possibly a more pressing issue than the mess, Kentarou had to hope Yahaba didn’t notice was the safe underneath his bed. That would raise questions. A lot of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most people didn’t have fingerprint activated safes that held alternate identities, dirty cash, and a handgun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His worries were all for naught, because he was pretty sure Yahaba was paying so little attention he couldn’t even tell what color the walls were, caught up instead in Kentarou and pulling him down onto the bed. He didn’t fight it as he melted into the mattress against Yahaba’s body, lips pressed up against the other’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was woken the next morning by the sound of an alarm, and it wasn’t his. He left his phone in the kitchen the previous night, it was still sitting on the counter. The sun had barely risen, and soft light filtered through the curtains. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, Yahaba stirred, reaching for the watch on the bedside table to silence his alarm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you doin’ up so early?” Kentarou mumbled, hardly able to muster the energy to speak. It was definitely way earlier than he’d like to be up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got work today,” Yahaba sighed, sitting up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Saturday,” Kentarou raised an eyebrow, examining Yahaba as he did so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun fell on the man’s bare shoulders, casting an orange glow on the pale skin. His hair was mussed, but overall still perfect. Just as it always was, Kentarou wasn’t sure how it was always so perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I work weird hours sometimes,” Yahaba shrugged, not seeming to care. Kentarou didn’t blame him — he worked weird hours too. It wasn’t odd for him to be out late on a Sunday night. You got used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need me to drive you?” Kentarou moved to sit up, but Yahaba pushed him back down by the chest. His hands were freezing on Kentarou’s bare skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t worry about it,” Yahaba shook his head, “I can catch a train, we were up late last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It really wasn’t that late, especially not by Kentarou’s standards, but he had no objections to staying in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so,” Kentarou only half-protested, letting himself be swallowed up by the blankets once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I use your bathroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, its right across the hall,” Kentarou mumbled, watching as Yahaba slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants from the previous night. They were probably all wrinkled — he knew how particular Yahaba was about his clothes, “Do you need to borrow clothes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>different in size. Yahaba was a bit taller and lankier, but Kentarou surely had something that would fit him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba looked down towards his pants, and then the shirt crumpled on the floor next to it. It seemed to only just occur to him how </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrinkled </span>
  </em>
  <span>they were, “Yea, probably.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, just give me a second,” Kentarou shoved the blankets off his legs and hauled himself out of bed. He wasn’t going to bother putting his pants on, he would just be getting back into bed. Boxers would have to suffice, “I don’t know how much I have that’s really your style, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever is fine, as long as it’s clean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou hummed, pulling a suit jacket from his closet and a black shirt. He didn’t own any white — it stained too easily. Producing a pair of pants from the drawers in the corner, he handed Yahaba the pile of folded clothes, “These should fit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Kyoutani,” Yahaba shifted the pile into one hand, using the other to pull Kentarou in for a quick kiss. Chaste, and domestic, “I’ll get you before I head out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you don’t need a ride?” Kentarou called out to Yahaba, who was heading towards the bedroom door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the reassurance, Kentarou returned to bed, burrowing back under the sheets. It was warm, and it smelled like Yahaba. Kentarou didn’t really realize that Yahaba had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell</span>
  </em>
  <span> until his bed didn’t smell like his own. It was nice, and he found himself dozing once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was woken by the weight of another body on the bed once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m heading out, I put your mail on the counter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, thanks,” Kentarou mumbled, opening one eye as far as he could muster to look up at Yahaba.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pick up my tux later?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can bring it to the dry cleaner’s,” Kentarou hummed, hardly thinking about the offer, “I’ll bring it by when its done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm, least I can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t sleep too late Kyou-chan,” Yahaba leaned in to press a kiss to Kentarous forehead, and then he was gone once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was dozing again, drifting in and out of sleep, mind slowed by the warmth of the sun on his back. Every time he thought about getting up, that sun just got warmer, and Kentarou was swallowed further by his mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His bed was shifting again, once more disturbed by the weight of another body. It couldn’t have been Yahaba back, could it? He would have called, the doors were always locked. Who the hell was in his house?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice hummed, and the disembodied sound sent an all-too-familiar chill down Kentarou’s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Highness!” Kentarou bolted up, sitting up so quickly that he was pretty sure he felt a couple of his vertebrae pop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope he’s not becoming a distraction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grand king was sitting in Kentarou’s bed. Quite underdressed for the King, clad in only a button up shirt and dress pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not, I assure you,” Kentarou nodded, pulling the blankets up to cover his chest. If he didn’t already feel vulnerable around the King, being half-naked in bed next to him would definitely do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’d you find him? He’s a cutie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had to fight the urge to snap back at the King. The way he talked about Yahaba like that made Kentarou’s blood boil. He didn’t want him involved in all this shit, and he certainly didn’t want the King of all people cooing over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coffee shop,” was all Kentarou could muster without giving in to the urge to break the King’s stupid face, “Keep him out of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh don’t worry about him Kyouken,” the King waved him off, practically purring, “He’ll stay out of this as long as you keep him out of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell was that supposed to mean?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead and get dressed,” the King stood up, heading towards the door, “We have things to discuss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as the King walked out of the room that Kentarou realized he hadn’t even taken off his shoes. The King was a scheming, conniving bastard, but Kentarou thought he had enough respect to at least leave his shoes at the door of someone’s house. He might have broken in, but he could have at least left his shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou could hardly gather his thoughts as he got dressed. It might have been the King — but Kentarou didn’t have a full set of dress clothes clean. So he pulled on a clean sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. That was put together enough, right? The King himself was underdressed, so it was probably fine that Kentarou wasn’t up to his normal standards of presentation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou stepped out into his living room to see the King in the dining area, admiring his wine cabinet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have some good stuff in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re free to take a bottle,” Kentarou offered on a whim, “I don’t drink any of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I couldn’t,” the King hummed, standing up straight and strolling into Kentarou’s kitchen, “Your little friend has good taste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he spoke, the King picked up the bottle of wine from the previous night. It was almost half gone now, and he spun it around in his hands with ease. Kentarou couldn’t shake the worry that the King was going to drop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get you anything to drink?” Kentarou was searching for any way to get the King to </span>
  <em>
    <span>sit down</span>
  </em>
  <span> and tell Kentarou what the hell he was doing in his house, “Coffee, tea, something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you have for tea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wasn’t sure he remembered. All he knew for sure was that he had a container of orange blossom tea. He bought it once, wondering what that guy at the coffee shop liked so much about it, and didn’t care for the taste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, he shuffled through the canisters in his cupboard, reading off names. He didn’t even remember buying some of this. Kentarou wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but he enjoyed the occasional cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, orange blossom tea,” the King finally hummed as Kentarou read it off, “Go ahead and make me a cup of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> he had to drink the same kind of tea as Yahaba. Why wouldn't he? The King just </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> playing his stupid mind games.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou pulled the container from the cupboard, placing the metal tin on the counter with a gentle </span>
  <em>
    <span>clink</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As the water for the tea boiled, he scooped a spoonful of leaves from the canister, dropping them into his teapot. While he prepared the tea, Kentarou could feel the King’s gaze burning into his back. He could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> the judgment. It hadn’t even occurred to him what the King would do or say if he weren’t satisfied with Kentarou’s tea brewing skills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He decided that he wasn’t going to think about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the water boiling, Kentarou took the teapot and single glass cup to the island where the King sat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He placed the tea set onto the countertop, and pulled up a stool, “What can I do for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll speak when the tea is brewed,” the King hummed, “You have messages.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King nudged Kentarou’s phone across the table towards him, and Kentarou felt his blood run cold as he realized that the King had been presented with Yahaba’s full name as it appeared in his contact name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Yahaba Shigeru seems to need you very urgently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the mention of his name, Kentarou snatched his phone from the King’s hands, switching it on to see just what Yahaba needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [8:34]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>kyou-chan</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [8:34]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>why is there blood in ur blazer</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> there blood in his blazer? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was bullshit. Kentarou knew exactly why there was blood in his blazer. He just didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how much</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It couldn’t be that much, if he didn’t notice it. Probably just a few stray drops in the lining, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [8:42]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I get bloody noses, must’ve missed it when I cleaned it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [8:42]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>want me to bring it to the cleaners?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [8:42]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>since ur bringing my suit and everything, paying u back</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somebody who wasn’t Kentarou destroying evidence </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> helpful. It also meant one less trip to the dry cleaners.  He was pretty sure the guy knew him by name at this. When it came to clothes bloodied by work, Kentarou just disposed of them, but he had plenty of dry-clean-only garments that weren’t blood-soaked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [8:43]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you want to.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [8:44]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>yea I don’t mind (:</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The King stared Kentarou down as he typed out his responses. Normally, any conversation with Yahaba would be pleasant. The very presence of the King made Kentarou’s blood run cold, and tainted the pleasantries of the exchange.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [8:45]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ok, sounds good, now get back to work before you get yelled at.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yahaba Shigeru [8:46]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>yea yea I willlll</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Kentarou finished with Yahaba, the water was about boiled, and he was bringing the kettle over to the island. Careful not to touch the hot metal of its body, Kentarou poured the water into the teapot, watching as the leaves swirled up into the disruption. It would be only a few more minutes until the tea was brewed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have time for the little distractions like that,” the King hummed, watching the leaves in the glass teapot, “He’ll only get wrapped up and soon you’ll be making choices.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay with choices,” Kentarou steeled himself for the small act of defiance. Every word he spoke had very real consequences — but something about Yahaba made him okay with those consequences. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not okay with choices,” the King’s voice hardened, the aggression that Kentarou knew all too well seeping into his voice, “Make good ones. Don’t let your little plaything get in the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou could have beat the shit out of the King right then and there. The way he reffered to Yahaba as Kentarou’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>plaything.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The pair might not have been the most serious at the time, but he sure as hell wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>playing </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Yahaba. The very concept of that made Kentarou sick to his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he bit his tongue, reaching towards the teapot to pour the king a cup. The leaves had surely finished steeping by now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you here to speak with me about?” Kentarou redirected the conversation. He wasn’t sure he could handle himself if the King made another comment about Yahaba.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a high-profile target that needs taking care of,” the King began, sipping at his tea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wasn’t sure why the King couldn’t have just called him into the Grand King’s Court for this. He had never made a home visit. Part of him knew exactly why — the King was trying to scare Kentarou back into his place. But he chose to ignore that. He wouldn’t be scared back into place by </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Well — maybe by the Grand King himself. Nobody else, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want me to take care of him?” Kentarou guessed, finishing the announcement for the King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but this is an offsite job,” the King explained, “It’s going to be much more difficult than anything you’ve done before, and I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t let you down,” Kentarou nodded firmly, he needed the King to trust him wholeheartedly. His future depended on it. Should the King question his loyalty, Kentarou just might end up in prison for life. He couldn't have that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The mission will be taking place in a month or so, we will brief you further as it gets closer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, sir,” Kentarou nodded once more, “Was that all you needed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just checking in, Kyouken,” the King shrugged like it was no big deal — even though it was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>extra</span>
  </em>
  <span> big deal, “If you have no questions for me, I’ll be leaving?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No questions, sir,” Kentarou shook his head, and the King stood up from his stool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was nice seeing you Mad-dog-chan,” the King pulled a black surgical mask from his pocket as he walked towards Kentarou’s front door, putting it on to conceal his face. The mask was quickly joined by a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses, so the King was almost indistinguishable from anyone else that might be walking the streets, “I’ll be seeing you again soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the door shut behind the King, Kentarou felt like collapsing to the floor. Completely deflating. He settled for allowing himself to fall into one of the armchairs in the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the Grand King on any normal work day was no big deal, he had time to adjust himself and prepare for the inevitable tension that being around the King brought. When he just showed up like this — Kentarou didn’t have any of that time to prepare himself. He just had to go for it on the fly, and endure the bone-crushing fear that came with. It sucked all the energy from his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>did Kentarou get here? Employed by a bastard like the King. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Kentarou needed the money, and the Grand King gave it to him. Back then Kentarou could put what he was doing aside. They were bad people, after all. The world was better off without bad people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was starting to question just how worth it it was. He had money, nice clothes, a nice house. Always had food on the table, and could justify spending too much money on fancy tea he wouldn’t drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was comfortable — but he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was fucking terrified, honestly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how the hell he was going to get out of this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kyou-chan,” Yahaba hummed, his hands making their way to Kentarou’s shoulders, “You’re so tense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had his reasons to be stressed out. Between the King, keeping up with his day job, and juggling a boyfriend, he had no time in the day to </span>
  <em>
    <span>relax.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Not that he’d be able to if he did have time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” all Kentarou could muster was a soft hum. He wasn’t sure anything else would come out if he tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to relax,” Yahaba continued, reaching around for the collar of Kentarou’s shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea,” Kentarou nodded, letting Yahaba do what he was doing. He didn’t have the energy to protest, even if wanted to (he didn’t).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He unbuttoned the front of Kentarou’s shirt with ease, easily undoing the buttons that Kentarou always found himself struggling with, “Lie down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou listened, leaning forward to lay face-down on his bed. It was warm. And soft. Yahaba’s hands pressed gently at his shoulders as he moved to straddle Kentarou’s hips. He was lighter than Kentarou expected — even settling his full weight across Kentarou’s lower back Yahaba was little more than an inconvenience. The weight was comforting, almost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yahaba gently pulled Kentarou’s shirt off of his body, leaving his shoulder blades exposed to the cool night air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just breathe,” Yahaba murmured, hands wandering to the space between Kentarou’s shoulder blades. His hands were cold. Digging the heels of his palms into Kentarou’s back, Yahaba leaned over to whisper in Kentarou’s ear, “Take a deep breath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hands hit the sore spot that had been bothering Kentarou for days. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made Kentarou feel helpless the way his breath shuddered as he breathed in, and then out once more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is here good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea,” Kentarou breathed, trying to will the relaxation into his body. It didn’t work too well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Yahaba was there to do it for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bony fingers dug into Kentarou’s skin in just the right places, easing all of the tension built up in his muscles. His hands were like magic, smoothing out all the knots in his shoulders. Untangling everything under the surface, smoothing out the fibers of his muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou felt pathetic with the noises that were coming out of him — something akin to moans of pleasure. It was embarrassing. But something about Yahaba just made him… let go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing to worry about here,” Yahaba continued, his breath warm on Kentarou’s skin, “You’re safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou hadn’t felt safe in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was expecting something different when he showed up to the Grand King’s Court a few days later. He was prepared to be doing more of the Grand King’s dirty work, but the bar was closed that night. The King never closed the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tentatively, he pushed the door open. Did he have the wrong day? No, it was clearly written on the paper he received. It was in his phone as soon as he opened the letter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was odd, being in the Grand King’s Court without anybody there. Kentarou was used to the bar being a busy, bustling hub of activity. It was dead now, properly lit, and empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mad-dog,” the Groom’s voice called out from behind the bar, his mask pushed up onto his forehead. Kentarou wasn’t sure he had ever seen his face — the only way he could identify him was the squirrel mask he wore. If it weren’t still on the Groom’s face, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to recognize him, “This way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou followed him behind the bar — being on this side felt wrong. There was a door among the shelves of bottles, and Kentarou always assumed that it led to the kitchen. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>lead to the kitchen, but past that, it led elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a conference room behind the kitchen, behind a heavy steel door. There was a keypad next to the door that the Groom punched the code into. Inside was a large table, with enough seats for each of the King’s inner circle. Kentarou even had a chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou took his place between the Man-in-Waiting and the Knight, removing his mask to mirror the rest sitting at the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had never seen all of these men maskless, in the same room, at once. He didn’t see some of them maskless at all. The Groom was overall a pointy guy. His hair was spiked up, probably stiff with all too much gel. His eyes narrowed at everybody around the table, and he seemed overtly wary of everybody. Kentarou didn’t blame him. The Page Boy sat next to him, a sleepy, apathetic look on his face. Kentarou wasn’t sure how somebody who looks like he couldn’t care less about everything got into this kind of  business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Jesters were laughing about something or other, oddly lighthearted for being where they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had nobody to speak to, the rest of the court mumbled amongst themselves as they waited, Kentarou remained quiet. The King was talking to his Knight, voices hushed and quiet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wished he would just get to the point already, he wanted to go to bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good evening,” the King’s voice echoed above the rest of the noise in the room, quickly silencing the men whos at around the table, “I supposed you’re wondering why I called you all here together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea boss,” Sleepy added, surely far too brash to get off without consequences, “The bar’s closed too, what’s up with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>explain,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” the King shot Sleepy a pointed glance, but no more than that. If Kentarou spoke out of turn like that he’d be dead in a second, he was sure of it, “If you give me a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s our Grand King for ya, Sleepy,” Pinky laughed from across the table, “Always had a flair for the dramatic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two joked so easily around the King. Kentarou had seen it to an extent, but he didn’t realize that the Jesters were </span>
  <em>
    <span>this stupid. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Were they not afraid of getting their brains blown out?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of our biggest enemies is in our crosshairs,” the King continued, ignoring the antics of the Jesters on either side of him, “Ms. Kida Sayomi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had heard whisperings of her. Nothing entirely substantial — but the king hated her. Kentarou wasn’t sure what she had done, but she held a lot of information that the King apparently didn’t need getting out. If the King was scared of somebody — they all had reason to fear them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She has become a regular at a nearby hotel and casino, and we will be launching an attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Small gasps and whispers arose from the table. It wasn’t often that coordinated actions were taken — most of them simply took orders from the King as they came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need us to do, Your Highness?” the Man-in-Waiting questioned tentatively, daring to speak out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Each of you will have a set of responsibilities — I cannot stress just </span>
  <em>
    <span>how important</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is that each of you performs to the best of your ability,” the King continued, not answering his Man-in-Waiting’s question in the slightest, “I will elaborate further in private, but each of you will be in charge of the following: The Pageboy will cover communication and everything technological. Room reservations, false identities, you will cover it all. The Jesters will work their escape magic. Get us out of there safe. My Knight and I will be doing remote surveillance, advising the tech crew, the rest of you will be in the field.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wasn’t sure where he came in yet — field surveillance didn’t sound like his area of expertise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Mad-dog-chan,” finally, there were his answers, “All of this hinges on you, each of us are working to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> in and out, to take down Ms. Kida and do it without a hiccup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou nodded firmly, not letting his gaze waver, holding eye contact with the King. He was going to do everything right.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Weeks had passed since the original briefing, and the day of the attack was growing ever closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Preparations carried out into the days before — and Kentarou was </span>
  <em>
    <span>swamped.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had taken the week off work at the comic shop, allowing himself more time to himself, and more time with Shigeru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just finished running some errands, including a run to the drugstore to pick up black hair dye. His stripes were too conspicuous, too identifiable the King said. So he was going back to his natural hair color. He figured it was time for a change anyways. He had worn the same hairstyle since highschool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t worry too much about doing a perfect job — it was pretty difficult to screw up a buzz cut. By the early afternoon, his hair was black once more. It was weird looking at himself in the mirror like that. His hair hadn’t been this dark since middle school, but he looked nothing like he did back then. Previously round face was hardened, jawline sharpened and cheekbones defined. His face was rough with patches of stubble — though he still couldn’t grow proper facial hair. The glitter in his eyes was gone — replaced with the hard shine of malice.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God, what happened to him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wasn’t the man he was fresh out of college. Scared, out of money, and unsure where he was going to go. Jobs in the veterinary field weren’t exactly in high demand at the time. The man who got into a fist fight at the Grand King’s Court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was picking up Shigeru at work, bringing him out for an impromptu dinner. Nothing fancy like the Twisted Crow — but something nice enough to win him some radio silence for the next couple days. He’d take him out again after the attack.  It was risky showing up at Shigeru’s place of work, but Kentarou had grown comfortable with toeing the line with Shigeru’s coworkers. They had long since accepted him as Shigeru’s partner, and didn’t pay much attention. They wouldn’t question things by this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou entered the office building just like usual, donning a visitor’s badge at the front desk, and stepped into the elevator up to the fifth floor where Shigeru worked. He hadn’t been to the office many times — but he was there enough for it to be a comfortable routine. On days where he didn’t work at the comic shop he’d bring Shigeru his tea in the morning, and then spent a few minutes arguing about how </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, you’re not paying me back for it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shigeru really didn’t like to just take gifts from people — even Kentarou.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Entering the bullpen, Kentarou was greeted by Shigeru’s roommates and coworkers alike. Most of them worked in the same sector as Shigeru, but Tsukishima and Kenma were in the tech department on the other half of the floor. Kentarou didn’t see them often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here for Shige?” Tadashi called out from his desk, hardly pausing his typing as he looked up to Kentarou. It amazed him how Tadashi could just do that, he could hardly type while looking at his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea,” Kentarou nodded, moving to lean on the wall that surrounded Tadashi’s computer, “How’s the day been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had grown to learn how to make small talk with Shigeru’s friends. Kentarou wasn’t good at small talk in any metric — but he had grown to learn how. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not too bad,” Tadashi shrugged, clearing off his desktop screen, “You dyed your hair?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea,” Kentarou nodded, “Figured it was time for a change — it’s been the same since I was like, sixteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks nice,” Tadashi hummed, “Sophisticated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Kentarou huffed, standing up straighter, “Shige’s in his office?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks Tadashi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem Kentarou.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shigeru’s office was located on a higher level than the bullpen, raised a few feet off the ground with the conference rooms and offices belonging to the other higher-ups. Kentarou climbed the short staircase just as he had every time he came to the office, and knocked on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One moment!” Shigeru called out from behind the door, and Kentarou waited patiently. Shigeru was a private person, he always spent a few minutes shuffling files away when Kentarou came to visit. He didn’t mind, none of it was about him. If they were, he’d know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moments after the sound of a desk drawer slamming shut, Shigeru appeared at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Ken,” a smile made its way onto Shigeru’s face, warm and gentle, “What are you doing here? It’s a bit late for morning tea and coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he spoke, Shigeru escorted Kentarou into his office, shutting the door behind them. The blinds over the windows were drawn, and he pulled the screen over the door’s small pane of glass. Shigeru just knew by now that Kentarou also liked his privacy — just in a different way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna go get dinner,” Kentarou explained, stepping closer to Shigeru and allowing his hands to fall to rest on his waist, “You good to go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the occasion?” Shigeru questioned, hands making their way to the lapels of Kentarou’s suit jacket, “Don’t think I forgot an anniversary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t I just take you out because I love you?”</span>
</p><p><span>“Is this you trying to apologize for your terrible dye job?” Shigeru laughed, reaching a hand up to ruffle Kentarou’s hair, “What’d you do that for?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Wanted a change,” Kentarou shrugged, feeding Shigeru the same excuse he fed every other person in his life.</span></p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice enough, I guess,” Shigeru joked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, sounds good,” Shigeru leaned in to press a kiss to Kentarou’s nose before retreating back to his desk, “I just gotta get these put away in the right spots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou watched as Shigeru did just that, pulling files from his desk drawers and shuffling them around. He wasn’t trying to look, but some of the covers caught his eye. Some of them read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Top Secret</span>
  </em>
  <span> in big red letters. Kentarou wondered what could be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>Top Secret.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, we’re good to go,” Shigeru shut the final desk drawer, pulling on his suit jacket and stashing a key away in his pocket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou offered up his arm, and they were on their way to dinner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was sleeping. Shigeru laid next to him in bed, out like a light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much like him, Kentarou had been lost to the world, but he was woken by his work phone buzzing in his nightstand drawer. Not wanting to wake Shigeru, Kentarou scrambled out of bed with the device, escaping to the back porch to answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mad-dog speaking, what’s happening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just checking in Kyouken,” the King’s voice came through the speaker, voice seeping into Kentarou’s bones and sending a chill down his spine, “Are you prepped for tomorrow night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will have one final briefing at the Court tomorrow at 21:00, don’t be late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Your Highness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have a lovely night Kyouken, say hi to your little boyfriend for me,” the King crooned, not even giving Kentarou a chance to respond before hanging up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God </span>
  </em>
  <span>it pissed him off when the King did that. Talked about Shigeru like he did. Kentarou was just about done with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ken, what are you doing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tired voice came from behind Kentarou, and he turned to see Shigeru in the back porch’s doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just had to take a phone call,” Kentarou pocketed his phone, stepping forward to escort Shigeru back into the house. It was chilly outside, “Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Shigeru hummed, allowing Kentarou to direct him, leaning into his side, “It’s late, why did you have to take a phone call?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of the kids at the comic shop was dropping his shift tomorrow morning,” Kentarou lied through his teeth, “He was letting me know who took it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shigeru hardly hummed in acknowledgment this time, practically falling back into Kentarou’s bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it,” Kentarou continued, pulling the blankets over the two of them once more, “Just go back to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“M’kay,” Shigeru mumbled, nestling himself in Kentarou’s arms, “G’night Ken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Shige.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day of had arrived. Kentarou wasn’t much to be consumed by his work, he’d arrive when he had to arrive, and go about the rest of the day as normal. Today was far out of the ordinary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped by the coffee shop for his normal black coffee, and headed to the market to stock up his fridge. Kentarou was running low on groceries. He tried sitting on the couch and watching TV, but just ended up flipping through the channels because nothing quite sounded entertaining. Kentarou ate a big lunch that day — just because he needed </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to take up a big chunk of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he made bread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was no pastry chef, he had never made bread before. But it sucked up minutes of his day like a sponge — and milk bread sounded good at the time. By the time Kentarou finished it was dinner time, and the milk bread was unappetizing. He ate a big dinner that night too. He’d need his energy, he would be out late and working hard. Grilled chicken chopped into fresh greens, peppered with whole red tomatoes and whatever other vegetables Kentarou could find in his fridge. That paired with a serving of homemade soup made for quite the filling meal. He almost couldn’t finish it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Kentarou finished eating, it was late evening. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, and Kentarou was </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>able to begin preparations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would need to look presentable, he pulled his tuxedo from the back of his closet. Kentarou didn’t use it often, only for special occasions. Now was definitely a special occasion. Pulling his pants on, Kentarou forgot how snugly they fit. Not uncomfortable, but they highlighted each and every detail of his bottom half. The jacket fit similarly, pulling just slightly around his shoulders, just slightly broader than average. Not to the point where the garments were too small — but they hugged his body more tightly than he was used to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the one time Kentarou could be caught wearing a tie — he watched tutorial after tutorial and </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally </span>
  </em>
  <span>managed to grasp how to tie a bowtie. He didn’t like it — it was too tight around his throat. However, loosening it meant having to try and tie it again, and there was no way in hell Kentarou was doing that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In Kentarou’s desk drawer there was a pair of leather gloves, he didn’t use them often. When completing jobs inside the Grand King’s Court, he didn’t have to worry about things like fingerprints. Things were different offsite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tucked the gloves into his pocket, shoving his work phone into the other one, and picked up his personal. Kentarou would be leaving it at home tonight — anything that could trace him needed to be left behind. First, though, a message to Shigeru.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kyoutani Kentarou [20:17]</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Shige, just wanted to let you know I’m gonna be off the grid tonight. So don’t worry if I don’t get back to you if you text me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have time to wait for a response, Kentarou put the phone in his nightstand drawer, and gave himself one last look in the mirror. He was ready to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Switching off the lights behind him, Kentarou locked the doors to his house, and was headed out. The bus stop was only a couple blocks away and the bus didn’t come for another twenty minutes at least, so he wasn’t too worried about moving too quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would drive if he were going anywhere but the Grand King’s Court, but he couldn’t have his car spotted there. He’d take the bus close enough, and walk. He was capable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou tried to pace himself, but he ended up at the bus stop quickly anyway. He couldn’t help but just want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get it started.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The sooner it started, the sooner it could be over, and the sooner Kentarou could get back to being a normal guy at his normal job. More waiting on the bench, some odd looks from those around him, because he was wearing a full tuxedo. The looks were understandable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Grand King’s Court was closed once more when Kentarou arrived. He donned his mask, but didn’t worry about getting it situated just right on his face. They wouldn’t be wearing the masks on this job, he wouldn’t have it on for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time he made his way straight to the room behind the bar, knocking when he reached the locked door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good Evening Mad-Dog-san,” the Knight answered the door, escorting Kentarou inside. He was ten minutes early, but still the last one in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome, welcome,” the Grand King crooned from his place at the head of the table, waiting for a moment as Kentarou and the Knight took their places, “It’s the big night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chorus of hums and head nods rose from the men around the table, even Pinky and Sleepy weren’t in the mood for joking around right now. Tonight was important. Beyond so, and the riskiest they had ever gotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to run through the plan once more, and then we’ll be on the road.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even the King didn’t waste any time, the man absolutely enamoured with dramatics, the biggest proponent of a good dramatic pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group of men who would be in the field piled into a limousine with dark, tinted windows, taking their seats in the back. Kentarou found himself seated between the Court Jesters and the King’s Man-inWaiting. The Groom opted to sit on the other side. He was the youngest member of the King’s Court — but one of the most senior, second only to the Knight, and on equal ground with the Pageboy. From what Kentarou heard, he was around for the founding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trip was long and silent — air in the limousine thick with the tension of words unspoken. An almost camaraderie between the men sitting in the back of that car, but not quite. They were united under one thing — they couldn’t fuck this up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon reaching the casino, the Jesters went off some odd direction. Kentarou and the Groom just walked in the front entrance, gloves pulled over sweaty hands. Starting now — they could leave no trace. Pockets stuffed with cash, they would buy a stash of tokens, and roam the floor. Never lingering far from each other, the two meandered. The Groom watched Kentarou closely, Kentarou watched for Kida Sayomi. He spent hours studying her face over the past weeks, he was sure he could pick her out in a crowd. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, he found her. Sitting at a poker table in a far corner, perfect. Kentarou slid into an empty seat next to the woman, looking over the cards laid down on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kida didn’t quite snap at him, but there was a bite to her voice. If Kentarou had been into women, he probably would have been drooling. She wore a stunning gold dress that shimmered under the dim casino lighting, it had a high collar, but the supposed modesty was negated by the cutout exposing impressive cleavage. Long hair was curled elegantly, falling over her shoulders in cascading waves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just lookin’ for a game of poker,” Kentarou adjusted his demeanor as he spoke to her, putting on the character. He wasn’t wearing a physical mask today, but he donned one in the metaphorical sense. His normal, prickly attitude wasn’t going to get him what he needed tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you’re going to have to wait,” she hummed, placing down a set of cards and pulling the chips on the table towards herself, “We’re almost done with this round.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can wait,” he leaned back in his seat, watching the woman closely. Watching how she played, searching for tells, twitches, anything that would help him in the next hour or so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kida was impressive. Kentarou couldn’t find a single tell, and she was racking up quite the pile of chips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to make a wager with you,” Kentarou hummed as the game finished up, sitting up in his chair. He almost found himself imitating the Grand King. He didn’t know how he felt about that</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m intrigued,” she purred, giving Kentarou a side-eyed glance while she collected the cards from the men around the table, “What kind of wager?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a very beautiful woman,” Kentarou felt gross about the way he was speaking to Kida. Even though he knew it was insincere, it felt like he was wronging Shigeru. But it had to get done, “Say, if I manage to win a round against you, we go back to your room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not the first man to make that sort of bet with me,” Kida hardly looked at Kentarou as she shuffled the deck of cards, “None of them have seen the inside of my room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me a chance?” Kentarou raised an eyebrow, watching as Kida began to deal the cards to the men around the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re handsome, I’ll give you that,” Kentarou didn’t like being talked about by somebody who wasn’t Shigeru like that. Being fiercely loyal had been a useful trait until now, “You beat me at poker, we’ll go upstairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect,” Kentarou smiled, making eye contact with the Groom across the room at the bar. Now he just had to actually beat Kida, which wasn’t proving to be an easy feat. Kentarou was a damn good poker player, but so was she.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the next hour, Kentarou came close to losing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of money. It was down to the wire, the final betting round. The men around the table laid down some fairly impressive hands, but certainly nothing game winning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Full house,” Kida laid her cards out on the table in front of her, “Threes over sixes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally that could be a game-winning hand, but Kentarou had something better up his sleeve. He didn’t even have to cheat to do it. He was prepared to — pockets stuffed with regulation playing cards. Some sleight of hand and he could’ve had this round in the bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Four of a kind,” he stated simply, laying out his cards, “Nines.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Kida cursed under her breath — fairly unladylike, but this lady wasn’t ladylike. Kentarou had learned this over the course of the night, “Good game, Mr. — I never caught your name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kotobuki Tasuku,” Kentarou spit out the fake name the King supplied him with, “Yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kida Sayomi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t need to ask her name — he already knew it — but she didn't know that he knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you Tasuku-san.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou almost forgot to respond to the name, hopefully Kida didn’t notice the lag in his reaction, “Nice to meet you too Ms. Sayomi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was odd referring to somebody by their first name so off the bat — but a lot of things about this night were odd. Like the way Sayomi clung to his arm as he escorted her over to the bar, offering to buy her a drink. It was paying her back some of the money he won, was his excuse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really, he was just getting her to lower her guard. Intoxication was one way to do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou ordered nothing more than a glass of whiskey — knowing that he’d really just be served a glass of soda made to look like whiskey and soda. The Groom had arranged for the bartender to not serve Kentarou any alcohol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure what it was that Sayomi ordered, but it looked expensive. Kentarou couldn’t have cared less. He pulled a small chunk of bills from his pocket, sliding it across the counter towards the bartender. There was enough in there for a generous tip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So about that trip up to your room,” Kentarou reminded her of their deal as she was about halfway through her drink, “We did make a deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So impatient, Tasuku,” Sayomi giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made a wager, I expect my rewards,” Kentarou gave Sayomi a side-eyed look, not letting her see his entire face. He was a fairly good liar, not so much an actor. He still felt disgusting doing this, it would hurt Shigeru so badly knowing about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then lets go,” Sayomi stood up, grabbing Kentarou by the wrist. He followed obediently up to her room on the third floor, and found himself sitting in the chair that sat on the desk while Sayomi was in the bathroom. He wasn’t sure why — but he supposed girls liked to get ready before they had sex with somebody. If only that’s what she were getting ready for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as she disappeared into the bathroom, Kentarou pulled the knife out from his waistband, unsheathed it, and tucked it under the pillow. Within easy reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now all that was left was to wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He draped his jacket across the back of the chair he sat on, abandoning the bowtie along with it. Finally freed of that suffocating thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She was taking a really long time</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just wanted to get this over with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou would have just </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get this over with the moment they stepped into the room, but the King insisted he have Sayomi fully distracted before he made an attempt. There was a reason she had weaseled her way out of the King’s clutches before — she was an escape artist that could rival the Court Jesters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dirty.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sure, maybe he was used to locking up his conscience when it came to the whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>murder </span>
  </em>
  <span>part, but cheating on his boyfriend? That part he wasn’t used to. Obviously. He never </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>a boyfriend to cheat on before now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more time she took, the more nervous he grew. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What could have been taking her so long?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the bathroom door opened, and out she stepped. Even objectively, she was beautiful. Her long curls had been pulled back into an elegant ponytail, and golden dress replaced with a set of lacy, black undergarments. The king should be thankful he was uninterested — otherwise this operation would be significantly jeopardized. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gorgeous,” Kentarou murmured, standing up to meet her. When their lips connected he felt sick to his stomach. He almost couldn’t do it. Almost. He hurried as he escorted her to the bed, making sure to push her down by the shoulders onto the side of the bed where he stashed the knife. The faster this was over the better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou tried to reach his hand towards the pillow, but Sayomi grabbed his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you take those gloves off?” she moaned between kisses, and Kentarou wanted to claw his ears out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t,” he made up a quick excuse, it didn’t have to hold up for long, pulling his hand from her grasp, “Doctor’s orders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His story for the gloves were burns, from a mysterious accident. It shut most people up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t seem too worried about it anyway, because she dropped the issue. Kentarou was trying not to listen to the little noises she made as she reached for the buttons of his shirt. He let her fight to unbutton them, it meant she was preoccupied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under the pillow behind her head, his hand found the handle of the knife. With a deep breath, he tightened his fingers around the handle, and in one swift motion he pulled it out from under the pillow and across her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It couldn’t be a moment sooner that he sat back, watching the life drain from her throat. All he could do as he sat there straddling the hips of her lifeless body, was breathe. It was done. The hard part was all done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t register the mechanical whirring of the lock on the door until it was too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agent Dogbreath with the Sendai Organized Crime Division, drop your weapon!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou’s body was obeying before he told it to, and as he turned to the figure at the door with his hands up, one singular thought ran through his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Kentarou, what the fuck are you doing?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Of all the people that could be standing in front of the door while it swung shut — Kentarou would have never expected Shigeru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I can—” Kentarou was about to say that he could explain, but, how did he explain why he was kneeling over a dead woman’s almost naked body? He didn’t, that’s how.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kentarou, what the fuck,” Shigeru never swore. Kentarou might have had the vocabulary of a sailor, but Shigeru didn’t swear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Shige, I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get out, hurry up. If I ever have to see you again I’m turning you in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t even bother trying to argue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Jesters dropped down a rope from the balcony below, Kentarou stepped into the loop, and tried not to listen as he heard Shigeru in the room below.</span>
</p><p><span>“We lost her. Just found her body in the room, no sign of anybody else.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>Except there was a sign of somebody else. Kentarou had left his jacket and bowtie on the chair. </span></p><p>
  <span>He didn’t hear much else, because as soon as he hauled himself over the ledge of the balcony, he was pushing past the Jesters and heaving into the bathtub. He couldn’t even make it to the toilet. He couldn’t even begin to process what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> just happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw come on Mad-dog,” Pinky jeered from the doorway, “Can’t be leaving DNA behind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” Kentarou spat out, drool dripping from his mouth. Disgusting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Getting a weak stomach now?” Sleepy joined in the teasing, and if Kentarou wasn’t busy losing his lunch (and the milk bread. and dinner) into the bathtub he might have clocked the guy. By the time his stomach was empty Kentarou was still dry-heaving over the tub, he didn’t know if he’d ever stop. He didn’t have anything left to throw up but his body seemed determined to send his very organs spewing out of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he slumped back against the wall, and he felt like he was going to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Jesters looked on from the doorway, arms crossed over their chests, like they were trying to figure out when Kentarou was going to keel over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good now?” Sleepy raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking better be,” Kentarou wheezed, trying to catch his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I owe Sleepy a ton of cash now,” Pinky complained, “You couldn’t have held out a couple more months?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still have the knife, y’know,” Kentarou glared up at him, and the worst part was that he was entirely serious. He didn’t particularly want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> Pinky, but a good stab to the thigh would certainly be cathartic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright,” Pinky raised his hands in defense, “Don’t bite, Mad-dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” was all he could offer as he stood up from the bathroom floor. His knees shook like hell. He could hardly stay upright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, careful,” Sleepy reached out to steady Kentarou, but the look he received was enough for him to pull his hands back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pinky had disappeared in the last few moments — Kentarou wasn’t sure where to. But he was back in the doorway now, handing Kentarou a pile of neatly folded clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Change, out there. Sleepy and I’ll clean in here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t bother arguing with the man. He was covered in blood and vomit and he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting.</span>
  </em>
  <span> As he stripped off the bloodied clothes, turning them inside out so they wouldn’t smear red everywhere, he couldn’t stop thinking about Shigeru downstairs on the phone with </span>
  <em>
    <span>whoever.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The Sendai Organized Crime Division. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Agent Dogbreath.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What the fuck kind of codename was that? No, no, it was something else. Dogmouth. That was it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking about it almost sent Kentarou running for the bathtub again. Instead, he heaved over the trash can. He had nothing left to give but spit and the air in his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa, Mad-Dog,” Sleepy remarked as he stepped outside the bathroom, clad in latex gloves with a paper bag in his hands, “You’re seriously messed up, what the hell happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, fuck off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleepy, leave him be, he’s cranky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cranky.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If only Kentarou were just cranky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, his life was falling apart around him. The house of cards he built around himself was hit by a stray poker chip, and it was collapsing on his head. The one thing that gave him hope, that made him feel like a person, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shigeru, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was gone. Now what did he have, the Grand King? His Knight and the Jesters? The Groom?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was nothing, and he knew it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shigeru said he wouldn’t turn him in, as long as he never saw Kentarou again. So he just had to take all possible measures to stay out of his way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he had to speak to the King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to talk to the Grand King,” Kentarou looked up at the Jesters from his spot on the floor, only half-dressed in the clean clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put your shirt on first,” Sleepy remarked, “We’ll rendezvous with the King at the bar soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was pretty sure he buttoned the new shirt crooked, it wasn’t sitting quite right on his body. He exited the casino the same way he presumed the Jesters had come in, back into the limousine with the Groom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need a barf bag, Mad-Dog?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m fine,” Kentarou shook his head, motion sickness wasn’t why he was heaving up his internal organs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough, they arrived back at the Grand King’s Court, the Grand King waiting at the back door for them with his Knight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I trust things went smoothly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before any of the other individuals who stepped out of the car could answer, Kentarou stepped forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to speak to you, Your Highness,” his voice trembled almost worse than his knees as he stood, body devoid of all that was keeping him going, he threw it all up, “In private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King raised an eyebrow, curious, “Sure, come with me Mad-Dog-chan. My Knight will direct the rest of you, treat him with as much respect as you treat me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was out of it as the King led him to a room in the upper floors of the Grand King’s Court, a floor that Kentarou had never been on before. This was not a floor with guest rooms on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reached a door, the King unlocked it with an ornate looking key, and escorted Kentarou in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room they entered was an office, presumably the kings. It was… really normal. At least, for an office belonging to a notorious crime lord like the King. The walls were painted a darker color than what might have been normal, and the lighting was certainly lacking, but there were pictures on the walls. A few trophies in a well-lit glass case. Most of the pictures were of what looked like a younger version of the King and his Knight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was weird to think that the King was anybody but </span>
  <em>
    <span>the King</span>
  </em>
  <span> once upon a time. A kid with dreams and ambitions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The office brought out a human side of his boss that Kentarou wasn’t prepared for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down,” the King gestured towards a chair on the opposite of his desk, taking his own seat in the office chair on his side. It was a fairly normal chair, fairly normal desk. Nice cherry wood on the desk, a simple mousepad and laptop stand. A cup of pens sat next to a photo of the King and his Knight, with the Jesters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They just looked like normal kids. Like Kentarou had been, before he got wrapped up in this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How did they all get wrapped up in this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The King seemed to notice Kentarou staring, and he flipped the photo frame down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something went wrong, didn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed like a good idea at the time, to tell the King. Kentarou thought he could handle it. Apparently not, because now he felt like heaving his guts out again. No, he couldn’t. No signs of weakness in front of the King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something went really wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I presume that’s why you were causing a problem for our dear Court Jesters, puking your guts and more out into the bathtub?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou knew there was no way he could have stopped it, if he tried he would have just choked on his own vomit. The way the King spoke made him feel shitty regardless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You remember my—” Kentarou was about to refer to Shigeru as his boyfriend, but even the thought of the words made him uneasy now, “Yahaba, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, your little boyfriend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou’s stomach churned with the words coming out of the King’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He works for the Sendai Organized Crime Division,” Kentarou started, and once he did he couldn't stop, “They were tracking Ms. Sayomi as well, he broke in as soon as she was dead. He said he wasn’t going to turn me in as long as he never saw me again, but I thought that you would appreciate knowing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was almost crying by the time he finished speaking, but he couldn’t. He willed the tears back into his eyes, and locked his gaze with the King’s. If he focused on maintaining eye contact, he wouldn’t be thinking about it so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I know,” the King hummed, seeming all too flippant for the situation on their hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You know?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve known from the start,” the King hummed, “Those fuckers have been hunting us for years, as long as your little… whatever, keeps his mouth shut, we’re gonna be perfectly fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wanted to argue. There was no </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine </span>
  </em>
  <span>about this. Nothing about any of this was fine, they were taking advantage, killing people, bending the very laws of morality, and for what? Money? Something to do?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exited the king’s office, found the bathroom back on the main floor, and as soon as he was sure that he was alone, Kentarou was crying. Crying and dry-heaving all over again, trying to expel this </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting feeling </span>
  </em>
  <span>deep in his stomach. It snaked its way through its organs, infecting and oozing, burning and leaving everything coated with a thick, black sludge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had to get this sludge </span>
  <em>
    <span>out of him.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But the one person he cared for the most saw him at his </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolute worst</span>
  </em>
  <span> and was going to spend the rest of his life hating Kentarou, if not turning him in to the police and dooming him to a life of rotting in prison. No, Shigeru wasn’t going to turn Kentarou into the police, Shigeru </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>the police.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck. What the hell was Kentarou going to do?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he run? He had plenty of identities in the safe at home. Money, passports, and ammunition. He could get far, disappear pretty easily. How did he tell that to the King?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t, that’s how. The King would find him. You didn’t get out of dealings with the Grand King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou knew he had to wait it out — but how did he do that? How did he live each day with the crippling fear that it would all come crashing down? How did he live with the oozing blackness inside of him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would he ever stop feeling like this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mad-Dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bathroom door swung open, a familiar voice accompanying it, “I got you some water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t bother responding. He didn’t particularly like speaking to the Pageboy. He was just some little stupid kid who was maybe a little bit good with computers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pair of dress shoes walked up to his stall, and the lower half of a body sat down on the floor in front of it. The Pageboy placed a cup on the floor just underneath the door, and Kentarou didn’t hesitate to grab it before it could be taken away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was gone before he could even consider that maybe it was drugged. Laced with something that could take him out before he had a moment to fight back, he was a liability after all. He fucked it up. Maybe the King wanted him gone. After all, he got himself intimately involved with an Agent tasked with hunting him and his coworkers. He slept with him, for Christ’s sake. He bared his soul to Shigeru, let him become the single most important thing in Kentarou’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now it was all over. It was a short exchange, altogether no longer than a minute. No more than thirty words exchanged. Kentarou could remember every second of it, and none of it at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need more?” the Pageboy questioned softly, and Kentarou slid the cup back under the door towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as the Pageboy was filling up the glass at the sink that Kentarou was starting to feel really sleepy. He didn’t know if the Pageboy laced the water he was given, or if the adrenaline was finally wearing off. Either way, Kentarou found himself slumped against the stall’s wall, barely able to keep his eyes open anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pageboy,” he mumbled as the glass was placed under the door once more, “What the hell did you do to me?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kentarou woke up in his bed. He wasn’t sure how long it had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth was dry as hell, and he had no idea how he got there. He was undressed, fancy suit replaced with his favorite sweater and a pair of gym shorts. The heartbeat in his head pounded out a rhythm that he quickly grew sick of, and he just wanted some </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn answers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Light shone through a small slit in his curtains, so it had been at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span> a few hours, but Kentarou knew that he had been asleep for longer than that. He could feel it in his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body was heavy and the urge to just let his eyes fall closed once more was stronger than ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a noise in his kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against his body (and mind’s) protests, Kentarou hauled himself out of his bed, and out into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Standing there going through his cupboards was an all too familiar shaved head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you in my house?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kentarou all but growled, watching as the Man-in-Waiting’s head snapped around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re awake,” he turned to face Kentarou, unfazed by the aggression, “Making sure you haven’t died, the King was worried he dosed you too hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the fuck did the King drug me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let your body recover,” the Man-in-Waiting shrugged, like he didn’t have much of an idea why the King </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> drug Kentarou, “You got fucked up the other night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The other night? How long has it been?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two days,” the Man-in-Waiting pushed a plate of steamed meat buns towards Kentarou, “Eat, your body’s been without food since then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I know you didn’t lace this, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t, trust me,” the Man-in-Waiting shrugged, “If I, or the King, wanted you dead you’d be dead by now. Eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no arguing with that logic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou sat down in a stool at the island, trying not to shovel food into his mouth too aggressively. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking hungry </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the Man-in-Waiting’s cooking was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so fucking good. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was almost enough to forgive him for letting the King and the Pageboy drug him, and then breaking into his house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Police have been up the walls about Ms. Sayomi, but nobody’s on your ass,” the Man-in-Waiting hummed as Kentarou stuffed his face. Kentarou gave up on not looking desperate, “You’ll be out of the woods soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A half-hearted </span>
  <em>
    <span>hrmph</span>
  </em>
  <span> was all Kentarou had to offer on that subject. He would have much rather never thought about Ms. Sayomi or Shigeru or that casino ever again. He didn’t need a reminder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The King has decided its best you take leave for a week at least,” the Man-in-Waiting dropped the bomb as Kentarou finished off his plate, “You will not be performing at top notch, and we need you to be. Take the week, then come speak to His Highness. He’ll decide if you’ll jump back in right away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no objections </span>
  </em>
  <span>to a week off of killing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What he was going to do? He had no idea. His first thought was to spend some time with Shigeru, take him out once or twice. Spoil him a bit. That was no longer an option.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He had to find a new coffee shop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe that’s what he would do, scout out new coffee places.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re feeling alright—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” Kentarou cut the Man-in-Waiting off, resisting the urge to let out the massive burp rumbling in his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I will be going home,” the Man-in-Waiting gave Kentarou a side-eyed look, “I’ve washed your clothes, and left some cash for the food I ate while watching over you. I made sure to clean after myself, so you should have nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I owe you one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Man-in-Waiting turned and stepped out of Kentarou’s house without another word, leaving Kentarou sitting at the counter with a plate of nothing but crumbs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since the casino, Kentarou felt like he had been moving through sludge. The same black sludge that coated Kentarou’s insides and made him feel nauseous day after day pooled in a thick layer on the ground he walked, hindering his very ability to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou quit his day job — and he was almost throwing himself into work at the Grand King’s Court. In an odd way, he found himself leaning on his coworkers. He became less of an outsider, more integrated into their tight-knit little group. On nights where he wasn’t called in for jobs, he started bartending. Just so he wouldn’t be trapped in his house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the sludge beneath his feet hindered his movement, he was drowning in it there. Everything reminded him of Shigeru.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tin of orange blossom tea that he dumped in the trash, the suit Kentarou promised to dry clean. There was the occasional sock that Kentarou knew wasn’t his, and that was enough to ruin his entire day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he tended to the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blood on Kentarou’s hands didn’t bother him so much anymore. He’d find dried flakes under his fingernails sometimes and it hardly fazed him. Usually, he would spend hours scrubbing just to make sure all of it was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things ceased to matter now that Shigeru was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the famous poker tournaments held at the Grand King’s Court was coming up. Kentarou was expected to be there, and as always, he was. He arrived early, saving his place at the table between the King and the Man-in-Waiting with his suit jacket on the back of his chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got himself a drink — nothing alcoholic, of course, no drinking on shift — and entertained himself with watching the patrons until things began. This was always how he did things. It was an almost comforting schedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou was just fine with this until he recognized the group walking in the door. To anybody else, they would appear just a group of friends there to play some poker. Laughing, joking around with each other. Kentarou saw past the masks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That red tuxedo jacket didn’t belong to just anybody, and he didn’t know of many green-haired people with freckles that were friends with the red-jacket individual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew how to get to the King’s office by heart now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou rushed up the stairs, knocking gently on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One moment!” the King called out from behind the locked barrier, and within a few minutes he was unlocking and opening the door, “What can I do for you Mad-Dog-chan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s here,” Kentarou breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King simply hummed, maybe even laughed. A small smile crept across his face, “Do you have a plan?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou nodded firmly. The King wasn’t the only one with a flair for the dramatic. Sometimes he liked to have a little fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call the team into the conference room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Shigeru’s team slid into the seats at the Grand King’s poker table, the inner echelon had all been informed. When Kentarou gave the codeword, they each had a target. Kentarou would take Shigeru, the King and his Knight Tadashi and Tsukishima. The Pageboy took Kenma, the Groom Ennoshita, the Jesters Akaashi and Futakuchi. The Man-in-Waiting helped out anybody who appeared to need it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time the final betting hand came around, Kentarou had full confidence he was going to win. Things had been set up so he was the final person to lay down his cards, the King was more than willing to participate in his staging for the most dramatic reveal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were some good hands, but Kentarou had the all encompassing trump cards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t particularly good with firearms, but Kentarou’s handgun sat snugly against his thigh. One hand held the cards, ready to flip them around for the reveal, the other the grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the King laid down his cards, nothing particularly useful, and it was Kentarou’s turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dropping the cards on the table, Kentarou made direct eye-contact with Shigeru, grey eyes practically glowed in the shadow of the fox mask he wore, “Checkmate, I win, Agent Dogbreath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The table went from calm to chaos in the split second it took for Kentarou to pull his weapon from the waistband of his pants, pointing it directly at Shigeru. Kentarou could see the sludge in Shigeru’s gaze, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the small space, handguns were favored more as melee weapons than their intended use, and few shots were fired. Most of the chaos came from lunging across tables and making attempts to physically subdue opponents. Kentarou wasn’t letting Shigeru get away this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing this for?” Shigeru spat at Kentarou as the two grappled on the floor, Kentarou kneeling on top of him, doing his best to pin Shigeru’s wrists to the floor. He was stronger than Kentarou remembered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because fuck you,” Kentarou fought back, digging his knee into Shigeru’s groin. Dirty move, but he needed help. He didn’t get to where he got without playing dirty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest was a blur. Within a few minutes, the bar was cleared, and he stood with the rest of his coworkers in the conference room. They didn’t sit in the chairs, however. Those were reserved for Shigeru and his associates. Each of them had been tied to a chair, and now the group stood surveying them. They had no plan now, they weren’t expecting a whole team of agents be delivered on their doorstep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boss, what do we do with them?” Pinky was first to approach the King, somehow not afraid of the methodical look on his face. There were clearly gears turning in the Grand King’s brain, and gears were dangerous. Very much so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna let us the fuck go!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice from across the table yelled out, and Kentarou was surprised to see that it was Tsukishima speaking out. He didn’t ever seem to care much about anything, preferring to stay in the background rather than draw attention to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you do? You sick fuck!” Tsukishima continued, “You lead a guy on, kick him to the curb and then fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>kidnap him?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut him up,” the King gestured towards Tsukishima, and Kentarou saw the flash of gunmetal before he could even think about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” he yelled, practically smacking the weapon from the Knight’s hands, “Not yet, don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t miss the sideways glance that the King shot him, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to have the blood of Shigeru’s friends on his hands. Not only was the King giving him sideways glances, so was Shigeru. He surely didn’t notice how quickly Kentarou objected to the point-blank shooting of Tsukishima.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Melrose, shut the hell up,” Shigeru hissed from his spot at the table, “Not now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why should I shut up?” Tsukishima barked still as Sleepy walked out of the room and returned with a dish rag of questionable cleanliness, “That’s a bunch of bullshit, he fucked you up Shige! Don’t act like he didn’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Tadashi was next to scold his partner, “They don’t need to know our names, fucking dumbass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t act like they don’t know our fucking names already ‘Dashi, they know everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsukishima was right about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a fucking dickhead, Kyoutani—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was Kentarou’s turn to yell at Tsukishima for his outburst. He snatched the dishrag from Sleepy, storming over to the spot where Tsukishima sat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, you fucking bastard, I want to talk to you!” Tsukishima looked up at Kentarou, a fire in his eyes that he had never seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t give Tsukishima a chance to respond before jamming the dishrag into his mouth and tying it around the back of his head, effectively muzzling him. All that came from Tsukishima now were disgruntled grumbles, and Kentarou was pretty sure he tried to bite his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite the show there Agent Melrose,” the King crooned, earning himself a dagger-filled stare from Tsukishima. Kentarou was pretty sure he tried to yell a few more obscenities in the King’s direction.</span>
</p><p><span>“Kyouken, what do you think we should do with them?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“I’m not sure, Your Highness.”</span></p><p>
  <span>“Drop the stupid play shit!” Somehow, Tsukishima managed to spit out the gag. Kentarou cursed his weak knot tying skills, “You’re no fucking king! Oikawa Tooru, you’re a fucking bastard! A lying, conniving, coward!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Tsukishima shouted out his name, a fire ignited in the King’s eyes that Kentarou had never seen before. For the first time ever, he walked over to Tsukishima himself. Calm and collected as ever, Oikawa Tooru stalked over to where Tsukishima was sitting and crouched down on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to say that to me again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was cool, the rock in a storm, but Kentarou knew there was fury underneath it. It was taking all of the King’s energy not to snap right then and there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oikawa Tooru, you are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking bastard</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Tsukishima deliberately repeated himself, punctuating each word firmly and with strong resolve. He had some serious balls on him, “You are a lying. Conniving. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Coward.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Kentarou could even blink, the King had his hand on the back of Tsukishima’s head, slamming his face into the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never speak that name again,” the King’s voice quivered, wrought with anger as he pressed Tsukishima’s face into the table, “Oikawa Tooru is dead, understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsukishima shook his head, unsurprisingly stubborn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The King simply pressed harder, Kentarou could see the blood beginning to pool out onto the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kei!” Tadashi called out, seeming to not care about their names anymore. Kentarou didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to see Shigeru in the King’s grasp like that, “Just shut up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Understand?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tsukishima spat out, and finally the King released him. There was blood everywhere, Tsukishima’s nose was clearly broken, and the frames of his glasses were a lost cause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, where were we?” the King hummed like he hadn’t just broken a man’s nose with his bare hands, “Kyouken, would you like to take lead on interrogation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou couldn’t do that. There was no way in hell. Interrogation was code for torture, he couldn’t torture them. He couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough,” the King shrugged, “Kyouken will escort our esteemed guests up to my office one by one, he knows where it is. My Knight will come with me, and the rest of you stand guard. Make sure Agent Melrose over there doesn’t get all feisty again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want Dogbreath to myself,” Kentarou cut in. A month ago he wouldn’t have dared stand up to the King like this, wouldn’t dare speak out of turn. He wasn’t the same person he was a month ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pff, Dogbreath,” the King snorted, almost seeming amused, “Alright then, we’ll save him for last. Agent Dogbreath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Dogmouth,” Shigeru corrected, daring to speak up, looking Kentarou straight in the eyes, “Agent Dogmouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What even is a Dogmouth, anyways?” Pinky spoke up, playing around just as he liked to. It was shocking it took the Jesters so long to start fucking around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a fictional neighborhood in New York City and—” Shigeru paused, as if he realized who he was explaining this to, “It doesn’t fucking matter, let us go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we’re not going to do that,” the King laughed, gesturing for Pinky to come back towards him, “Keep an eye on them, we’re heading up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it, Your Highness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pinky nodded, and the King turned and left the conference room with his Knight, “Bring me Norwood first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t know which one was Agent Norwood, but Futakuchi flinched, so it must have been him. He knelt down behind Futakuchi’s chair, untying the ropes that bound him to the seat. He’d have his hands tied once more soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, though, soon enough wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>soon enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Futakuchi was making a break for it, and Kentarou couldn’t stop it this time. A flash, a loud noise, and his body was on the floor in a pool of blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Sleepy, you made a mess,” Pinky whined, looking towards his partner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoops,” Sleepy shrugged, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to rot in hell, you sick fuck!” It was Tadashi’s turn to break down, screaming about morality and all that. Kentarou was getting a little sick of listening to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do we need to put a dishrag in your mouth too?” Sleepy jeered, pointing towards Tsukishima, “Ask him how he feels about it, why don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsukishima had stopped fighting by now, accepting the fate that was the cloth in his mouth and the blood pouring down his face. That alone was enough for Tadashi to shut up, his nose scrunching in something like disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou wasn’t sure who to bring now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take Mr. Hotheaded over there,” Pinky gestured towards Tsukishima, and Kentarou figured that would be alright. It wasn’t like he could take Futakuchi now. He could, but he wouldn’t be much use.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsukishima had been one of the people in that apartment Kentarou could really get along with. He was snarky, and whiny, and annoying, but Kentarou could get along with him. He wasn’t high-energy like the rest of them, or on the flipside, completely resistant to conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hoped to God that Tsukishima didn’t try and make a break for it as he untied his wrists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there was some fucked up higher power up there they listened, because Kentarou had Tsukishima’s wrists tied once again within moments, and he wasn’t fighting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two exited the conference room, and that was when Tsukishima spit out the gag once more and decided he had something to say again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a sick fuck, Kyoutani, I mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the bite to his tone was gone, the venom in his nasally voice evaporated, but there was just as much malice beneath. The King could beat the fire out of him, but not the coals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t have anything else to say to Tsukishima. He shoved the dishrag back in his mouth, should the King notice and get angry. He was angry enough already, Kentarou didn’t want to face his wrath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akaashi didn’t speak a single word when Kentarou escorted him, just gave him one last, longing glance as Kentarou passed him off to the Knight. He hoped they would all be okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you do that to us?” Ennoshita’s voice carried a similar tone of hurt to Tsukishima’s, pain oozing its way into every syllable, “How could you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to,” was all Kentarou could muster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, Kyoutani,” Kenma begged, “Please let me go, I can’t do this. I’m just the tech guy! I can get you anything you want, money, information, I’m more like you than any of those guys, just don’t put me in there with that monster!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Kenma,” Kentarou shrugged, he didn’t have much of a choice, “He won’t be too mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fucked him up, Kyoutani,” Tadashi seemed like he was resisting the urge to punt Kentarou across the room, “He trusted you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I trusted you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and you fucked it up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tadashi didn’t sound angry so much as he sounded hurt, disappointed. Kentarou couldn’t even muster a response to him. He just couldn’t. He passed Tadashi off to the Knight without a second thought. Really, he passed Tadashi off to the Knight with a third thought, and a fourth thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he stepped back into the conference room to see only one figure seated at the large table. The remaining members of the King’s Court had stopped worrying so much about watching Shigeru, he wasn’t set on fighting. He simply stared, eyes cold and dead, the sludge oozing from his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futakuchi’s body had been removed. Kentarou hadn’t known him well, but he was a good guy. Sleepy and Pinky cleaned up the blood, the last physical reminder of his existence. His funeral would be held with a closed casket, only there for the tradition of it. They wouldn’t find his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dogbreath, with me,” he steeled himself, trying to hide the quivering in his voice. Kentarou wasn’t sure how well it worked. Now that there were no longer any of the agents to escort, Kentarou was permitted to escort Shigeru to the room where he would be kept. He had a key, there were no cameras, and Kentarou wasn’t sure what he was going to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held Shigeru’s arm loosely in his hand, he wasn’t too worried about him running. Shigeru had something to say — Kentarou could see it in his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Shigeru was properly secured to the chair in the center of the room, Kentarou was free to do as he liked. Find out just </span>
  <em>
    <span>how much</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Division knew about them, about the King. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t want to find out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body acted of its own volition as his fist collided with Shigeru’s nose, and he couldn’t help the satisfaction that came with the resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>crunch</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the cartilage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>did you take them here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his hand out, Kentarou began pacing the room as he yelled, “You know </span>
  <em>
    <span>damn well </span>
  </em>
  <span>what the King does to people! Why the fuck did you take them here, why did you make me do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t make you do </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Shigeru spat in Kentarou’s direction, blood mixing with drool and dripping down the front of his shirt, “You’re the one who’s supporting this </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s what he is Kentarou. He’s a delusional freak, and you’ve let yourself get wrapped up in it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>let</span>
  </em>
  <span> myself do anything,” Kentarou barked, turning around to grab Shigeru’s tie in his hand, jerking him forward, “This shit is </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I can’t get out of it, you don’t think that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to? You think I fucking want to do these things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you’re still here, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How fucking tone deaf can you get?” Kentarou almost found himself laughing, because really, how tone deaf </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shigeru get? He had been stalking them for God knows how long, he had to understand that there </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>no getting out, “If I tried, I’d be fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe it would be better that way.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you say?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou heard Shigeru just fine, but he didn’t want to believe him. Not exactly on purpose he tightened his grip on Shigeru’s tie, tightening the strip of fabric around his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shigeru spat, spraying blood in Kentarou’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>wish you could.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like it did when he punched Shigeru, Kentarou’s body moved of its own volition as he moved in to kiss him. For the first time in months their lips collided, blood and saliva and </span>
  <em>
    <span>passion</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Kentarou felt like he couldn’t breathe. He never wanted to breathe again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou didn’t need to breathe ever again if it meant he never had to stop kissing Shigeru ever again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The taste of metal filled his mouth as Shigeru shuddered beneath his touch, falling into the familiar rhythm. Kentarou was swallowed by a tidal wave of </span>
  <em>
    <span>longing</span>
  </em>
  <span> all over again, falling in love all over again. The very feeling of Shigeru’s lips on his was enough to combat the sludge, a cleanup crew shoveling out the black ooze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he pulled away, Kentarou swore he almost heard Shigeru whimper. Like he couldn’t stand the thought of Kentarou being gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I fucking hate you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His words certainly didn’t match up with his actions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna get us out of here Shige, promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou meant it. He was getting out of this bar one way or another, and if it were in a body bag, so be it. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>done </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the Grand King.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Escaping a tyrant like Oikawa Tooru was no easy task. Kentarou had a stack of unused identities in his safe, and plenty of cash. The problem was getting rid of Kyoutani Kentarou and Yahaba Shigeru, not becoming the names on those new passports. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Within the next day, Kentarou got a hotel room in his new name. A hotel room in France, and one-way tickets to the French countryside. He purchased some property, it was summer. They would camp out, stay in the hotel. Kentarou would have a house built for them, a cottage big enough for just the two of them and a dog. Maybe two dogs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had all of his important belongings shipped off to the hotel, and they would stay in storage. For now. Everything was arranged. Passport photos were taken — getting Shigeru’s took some doctoring. Soon enough, the only thing left was to kill Kentarou and Shigeru. Cédric and Martial were ready to emerge, but the chrysalis needed to break away first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou had a plan. Whether or not it would work, he wasn’t sure. But it was a plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire safety in the Grand King’s Court was nowhere near up to code, Kentarou had listened to the King yelling at cooks for nearly burning the place to the ground before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he just had to make sure the place </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> burnt to the ground. Making it look like it took him and Shigeru with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Grand King had the agents in his custody for two days when it was time for Kentarou to execute his plan. He was delivering dinner to the agents, making sure to loosen their bounds enough for them to worm their way out if they needed. And they would need to. He didn’t miss the looks of gratitude he earned — but Kentarou didn’t feel good about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was still a very real risk that they wouldn't make it out of there — Kentarou had to hope to god they would make it out of there. Shigeru would never forgive him if he was responsible for the deaths of more of his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready?” Kentarou hummed as he entered the room Shigeru was kept in with a tray of food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shigeru nodded firmly, seeming to be steeling his resolve. Kentarou didn’t blame him. He was fucking terrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first thing he did was untie the rope holding Shigeru to the chair, and for the first time in days, Shigeru was able to stand up. Kentarou felt a twinge of guilt as Shigeru gently massaged his wrists, fingers brushing over the tender skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Kentarou hummed, stepping forward to take Shigeru’s wrist in his hand, pressing a kiss to the red spots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t — but Kentarou had more important things to worry about right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ready for this?” he pulled a book of matches from his pocket, there was enough to start a blaze. The Grand King’s Court didn’t have functioning fire alarms, so they’d be long gone before anybody noticed the smoke. If all went well, the entire thing would go up in flames. With any luck, the Grand King’s Court would be no more before Kentarou and Shigeru even boarded that plane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shigeru nodded, Kentarou lit the match, and there was no going back now. He dropped one into the bed, making sure the sheets caught. One on the desk, and a few more just for good measure. A towel had been stuffed under the door, so the hope was that the blaze would go unnoticed until it was truly too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the book of matches emptied, Kentarou was jumping out of the fourth floor window, Shigeru right behind him. It was all on them running now. How fast they could run, how well they could hide, how easily they could </span>
  <em>
    <span>get out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them stepped out of the airport bathroom different people. Stashed in one of the ceiling tiles was everything they would need to become new people — including a pair of clippers and hair dye. Shigeru’s hair was a deep black now, shaved at the sides and back. The fuzz on Kentarou’s head was shorter than ever, a few millimeters from being shaved down to the skin. Old clothing was abandoned in the ceiling tile, and the pair exchanged disheveled suits for nondescript hoodies. Shigeru covered his swollen nose with a medical mask, and their plane left in an hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was going perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they landed for a layover in Switzerland, Kentarou pulled the burner phone he purchased under his new name out of his pocket to check the news back in Japan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, there were headlines.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Local Sendai bar burned to the ground, two suspected casualties. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He skimmed a little bit more, but there was nothing more than talk of how they were attempting to recover the bodies of Kentarou and Shigeru. He wondered if they’d find the freezers in the basement. Kentarou didn’t know much about how the Knight disposed of bodies, but he knew they didn’t leave the King’s Court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re in the home stretch, Shige,” Kentarou dropped the phone into a trash can near the seats they found themselves in, and for the first time ever he pulled Shigeru in for a kiss without shame. There were people around, but he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to kiss his damn boyfriend, because they were out. Kentarou never thought that he would get out. Later that night in the hotel, the two of them collapsed into bed without even stopping for dinner, they had lost time to make up for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>~        ~        ~ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been years, and Kentarou still couldn’t believe he managed to escape the King’s grasp. Nobody got out. With the fire and rescue team searching for their bodies that weren’t there, they discovered the mass graves in the freezers. The King was found guilty of accessory to murder — all of the crimes were assigned to Kentarou’s name, but as far as the government was concerned he was dead. He was put away for some amount of time — Kentarou didn’t care how long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All he cared about was the man in bed beside him, practically glowing in the morning sun. He slept with one of their dogs — a Golden Retriever named Matilda — cradled in his arms. Shigeru loved giving dogs lame old lady names. At the foot of their bed was another fluffy friend, a mutt by the name of Pepper. Kentarou got to name that one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, good morning sleepyhead,” Kentarou hummed, reaching over to muss Shigeru’s hair. When they got out, Shigeru stopped cutting his hair. The ends were still black, a forever reminder of what they endured. Kentarou didn’t keep his quite so short, and he kept it natural. He could properly run his fingers through it now. He could never do that before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, Ken,” Shigeru mumbled, burying his face in the pillow, “It’s early, let me sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The sun is up,” Kentarou laughed, rolling Shigeru over to face him, “Let’s get breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wanna go out,” Shigeru whined,  burying his face in Kentarou’s chest. He didn’t particularly want to go out either. He could make breakfast, he had picked up cooking since they moved to France. He was pretty damn good at it, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, alright,” Kentarou gave into Shigeru’s pleas easily. He could be easily swayed with just a couple of puppy dog eyes from his partner. His </span>
  <em>
    <span>fiance</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The ring on Shigeru’s finger caught the sunlight and nearly blinded Kentarou. The two were set to be married in June — five years after they escaped the clutches of the Grand King.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he was no king anymore. Oikawa Tooru. Nasty lowlife, street rat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does a piece of that ass count?” Shigeru joked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up,” Kentarou couldn’t help but laugh as he hauled himself out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt, “For breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Shigeru crooned, “I was talking about breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine then, guess I’m making liver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou couldn’t actually cook liver, he didn’t know how, but the reaction that came from Shigeru was funny enough to be worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, please just make some pancakes please,” Shigeru whined, following Kentarou out of bed and into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno,” Kentarou shrugged, pulling his apron from the hook and tying it around his back, “I didn’t hear an answer, I think I heard liver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I think I heard you shutting up and making me pancakes,” Shigeru laughed, grabbing Kentarou by the straps of his apron and pressing him up against the oven, “Or getting your ass over here and kissing me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kentarou gave in, he wasn’t going to give this up. The dogs padded into the kitchen while Kentarou kissed his fiance, finding their spots next to the table in the sun. Life was perfect, just as it is. Kentarou lived with his partner and two dogs, they even took care of some stray cats. Kentarou never thought that he would have cats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never thought he was going anywhere besides the Grand King’s Court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Halfway through undressing Shigeru, Kentarou heard a knock at the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no fun,” Shigeru whined, pulling his shirt back on over his head, “Who’s gotta ruin the fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably just the mailman,” Kentarou shrugged, walking over to the door, “You wanna preheat the stove?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea, okay,” Shigeru nodded, and Kentarou opened the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind it was a face he never thought he would see again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drop dead, Dogbreath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A flash, a loud bang, nothing.</span>
</p>
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